Printed with a restrained three colours, the short book is a gentle, unassuming reflection on time, place, and sound. It’s not so much a story as it is a snapshot of suburban life. The sights and sounds of a sleepy, mundane evening become the beats and rhythms in the poetry of a neighbourhood.
It’s a lovely, precious little piece of nostalgia. It makes me hungry for more comics-as-poetry. I was unfamiliar with McNaught’s work, but am looking forward to discovering more of his work. His website offers up a decent amount of his other comics work, all of it as equally reflective. He has an uncanny ability to perfectly capture moments in time. His comics feel like real memories.
I’ve just reread his minicomic Broadcast, available to read on his website, three times in succession, marvelling at how he plays with colour, sound effects, and pacing.
Here are some panels from another story of his, Pebble Island.
His blog features more of his work, including some lovely-looking prints. I am officially a fan.