Scooters: the Newest in Animal Transport, Plus BookEndless Kitchens

I did a thing. I did a new thing! Well, not BRAND brand new, it's a two color linocut. But for my first time in all these years using some nice sharp Pfeil gouges instead of my usual throw-away student things. After ALL THESE YEARS, you ask yourself, If I was going to continue with this endeavor, WHY would I deem proper tools an extravagance?

As well, last week marked the first week of using my mini hairdryer to soften up the linoleum blocks, even though this wee hairdryer has been stored in my work space, for just such a purpose, because god knows I don't use it on my head. Why does it take so much time to shift from the idly contemplative, "Mmm, yeah, that seems like a good idea"/ "Hmm, that beats what *I'm* doing~~" to a positive follow-through? I must first overcome my own crotchetyness before paring away the crotchety aspects of my process or surroundings. So: Bahhh! And wheeee! The lino -- supple;  the tools -- sleekly sharp. I had hesitated over the return, after decades, to palm-held tools, but once I picked them up, they felt natural. A calming, more controlled experience. Hopefully they will show through in my work -- but the process alone is an improvement! Nice to hole up in a warm corner of my basement while Winter rages on up above. I also spent some time since January going through the basement and my work area, getting rid of and finding places for the various just-in-case possessions. My work area feels more ready to work these days.

 

So, here we have the latest, on mulberry paper:

Visit Etsy listing here and check out my Instagram here for the second variation (bright pink, currently drying in the basement).

On the homefront, we have emerged from high fevered nastiness for the little one, capped off at the end with a plummeting geode bookend that landed on our daughter's big left toe. Justified wailing + pool of blood = hours in Urgent Care Random. We eventually had very good care*, and, but for some pitiful hobbling, she soldiered through. 

Per usual,  interactions with the resident preschooler range from the ghastly to perplexing, to goofy-cute. From this morning:

Me, startled by a suspicious pool: Why is the floor by your bed all wet?
PS, matter of factly: Oh, I was spitting there.

Me, failing to run my fingers through her hair: Why is your hair all crunchy?
PS: Oh I had a lollipop in the car last night
Me: Oh, you *know* you're not supposed to touch your hair with lollipop hands!
PS, indignant: I *DIDN'T*! ... (more as an aside) But then I forgot and I touched the lollipop to my hair.

Breakfast Humor
Q: Why did the pantry cross the road?
A: Because it has a handle!

Eating her avocado toast

Q: Why did the piece of avocado cross the road?
A: Because it was green!

From a couple days ago. She is at a work table in the basement, seriously inking a couple small lino blocks. I am reorganizing the space. I turn up the radio, sing along. She gazes up at me for a moment.

PS: NO dancing. [I shimmy and purse my lips at her]. NO DANCING. [she pauses, and mutters to her paper] ...This is not a wedding, NO ONE is getting married. 


*barring the ONLY nurse I have ever actively disliked. She batted an impressive pair of fake eyelashes at my slumped daughter and proceeded to coo over her, repeatedly likening her to a a little baby doll in a toy box, she was THAT PRECIOUS, NO SERIOUSLY, THAT PRECIOUS, and finally addressing the patient directly:"So, darling, who are your THREE FAVORITE PRINCESSES???" Celie kind of stared at her. She has discovered Frozen, and is as smitten as most -- Rick and I are inevitably on call as Elsa- or Ana- stand-ins -- but this question caught her up short. She seemed confused an adult would be posing it to her. The nurse pushed on to some other rote obnoxiousness, without ever addressing her about the reason for the visit, etc. She took the blood pressure gadget from the wall and I noted she could actually talk to my daughter about that. She asked sweetly whether Celie wanted to be a doctor and she exclaimed yes! Without missing a beat, Gender Stereotype upped her Weirdo game:"Oh GOOOOD, you'll make LOTS OF MONEY! You could buy your Mommy a NEW CAR, VROOOM VROOOM, YEAH wouldn't THAT be FUN and your MOMMY would LOVE THAT!" Celie remained uncharacteristically silent. She could tell something was different here, but didn't know what to do with it; I was just waiting for her to leave. Which she did, thankfully, soon after that. WTF.

Tiny Expo! And Snacky Badgers

I used the terms "Summer" and "Fall" the other day and Javier reminded me that it's November. Michigan is trying to catch up with some weather nastiness (last Friday's high wind advisory, Saturday's rain, snow, hail pellets), but in between we're still getting days in the 50s and 60s -- bonus, bonus, bonus days! Let's buy balloons, let's throw a party! The Inner Eeyore intones: "we'll only pay for it later~~"

In the meantime, here's a little bit of local celebratoryness, for which I'm making busy like a bee. I'm excited to be a vendor at the Tiny Expo, held at the Ann Arbor Library (home to huge Connect Four sets and checkoutable theramins! to baby playgroups and mesmerizing aquariums!). Behold this year's enticing poster: 

Wouldn't we all go to more fairs if we had confidence bears, foxes and rabbits would be among the attendees? ...So, something else to stave off the early evening dark. I have been building up my woodblock card inventory, playing with collages, and have steadily chipped away at the picture book pages*, so I'll have a lot to share on a little ole table. The baby will most likely make an appearance as well, though for the sake of my back, Javier will also be with her.

*hah! hah! hah! woodblock humor!

Sneak peek of prints hot off the press from Studio Wednesday:

Next Up -- New Card Design, for the Discerning Snacker

An enthusiastic, but generous, Badger

Brand Spanking New, Just for Cards:

Roasting Brussel Sprouts, Eating Spoonfuls of Cookie Dough

...Increasing attention from little one will, in theory, force me to reform my sporadically ridiculous eating habits. In the meantime, it is 4:12 on Monday, October 26th: high time for a picture book progress post! Quickly, quickly, as la Bebe will be transferred back to my care shortly. She looks like a wee gymnast in her floral navy onesie and she is covering impressive floorspace with an aggressive commando crawl. She would happily pound this keyboard and lick my monitor, but will also initiate the grand back arch of protest if kept on one's lap for too long. So, here we go -- just listed on Etsy:

Page 28:

After the shouting, before the cake eating...Here we witness our precocious hero explaining to Cakeasaurus just how cakes come to be. If you were (/are) obsessed with getting your daily cake by nefarious ends, and you were (/are?) a sneaky monster, you may not be well versed in baking basics. Quimby tries to break it down...

Woodblock print, edition: 15, available here. 

Page 29: 

"All Good Cakes Are Born from Books": a fine statement, and most would agree, aside from rare bakers like my maternal grandmother, who could whip up an angel food cake ("light as air!"), bookless, with nary a measuring cup or spoon...The rest of us, though, must use recipes as road maps, to take us where we want to go. Cakeasaurus, being a dessert thief NOT a dessert creator, finds the concept a bit suspect. 

Edition size: 50. Available for sale here. 

All stages

 

Pages 18-19: You saw this being carved (plus maybe a test print?), but here's the final version of "Quimby Lay Awake..." This is an eensy tiny edition, but I must confess I'm rather of fond of this one.

I wanted it to capture some of the magical surreal quality of nighttime wakefulness as a child. I always get a kick out of playing around with the lettering and I think the words troop across the page pretty well. 

"This print marks a pivotal scene in my Cakeasaurus picture book: the fateful night where monster-in-search-of-cake meets five-year-old to be. Cakes have been disappearing for months now! Despite all precautions, the townspeople experience ongoing cake deprivation. The situation is untenable. And here we are: Cakeasaurus outside, Quimby within."

Available here.

"You Told Me to Come Heavy..."

"...So I did, but I don't want to use it" -- Tony Soprano, to Junior.

Revisiting The Sopranos, season one, to focus myself during carving this time.

 Tony is trying to manage both his mother and Junior.

In one of my favorite episodes-I-had-forgotten-about, Tony is taking Meadow around on a college tour when he sees a potential informer enrolled in the witness program -- which needs to be addressed -- Meadow is astounded by her Dad's outrage over her confessed drug use, which she somehow though he'd take calmly, since he (kinda) admitted to being in the mob; meanwhile, Carmela is snuggling up to her weaselly father (religious, not familial) as they drink wine and watch movies together. Woohoo, bring on the moral relativism! When Javier and I were addicted to Breaking Bad, this was always what we returned to -- how adeptly the series explored increasingly fraught moral ambiguities. Based on the best TV out there, there seems to be no getting away from it. It would seem that this lay at the heart of almost all great, compelling Art.

And of human identity? Surely even the most lily white among us departs from the written rules, at some point? Bahhh, easy to delve into, easy to set aside, as one is carving in the basement, on a Sunday evening. This two-page spread marks our initial view of our young protagonist, Quimby.

Ready for a test print!

Seemed fitting to break out a meat tenderizer, with Soprano viewing

Here be dragons!...of a sort.

Picture Book Update: Monster dwarfed by Obsession

Well, all craziness aside, I am forging ahead. Here's the next Cakeasaurus design in queue to get editioned at my friend's printing press -- the third design in line!

I carved this one in less than two weeks -- a record for me, as I usually milk it along, fitting in time here, time there; building up a carving callous in the first couple days and then slowing down a bit. I listen to This American Life, Marc Maron podcasts; carve from this angle, leaning into the block, carve from that angle, curling myself over the board...wander off for a cup of tea, or to bundle wet laundry into the dryer. I'd like to say that since time is shorter*, I have discovered greater focus and that I now truly understand and honor the gift of my time! BUT, no. I still slack. But you also need to know when to pick your battles: if baby mutterings are only going to escalate once your put her down? Best to become one with the couch. In truth, boosted productivity came down to the ipad. I parked it in between my carving bench S-hook and the wall and boom! I carved all the way through John Leguizamo's "Ghetto Klown."

*non-Baby time, that is.

With the subsequent baby care breaks, came the first season of "True Detective." I got sucked into drawled out menace of Matthew Mcconaughey's obsessive character and lopped off the tip of Cakeasaurus' tail. A portion of a lower case f was lost to another pivotal moment, but wood glue helped us out. I didn't take a photo of the test print itself -- will wait until I make some full-fledged prints... more process shots over at flickr here.

Weebles wobble, but they don't fall down

Almost three months into the baby adventure and I am definitely still developing parental sea legs. The ground possesses unreliable solidity at the same time it demands much more faith than I am used to giving out to anything or anyone; and then my scope eventually narrows down to our daughter's little face, either in repose, or delight, or a frightful wail. I know this shifting scope is good for me, and essential for the three of us; but a strange journey, even so.

A couple weeks ago, pain landed me in urgent care; after which I wasn't permitted to breast feed. This utterly confounded baby, who at one point licked the center of my chest before peering up at me intently. Why have you forgotten the rules?? More frequently, she slammed her forehead* against my shoulder, and shoved the bottle nipple around in her mouth before fitfully sucking on it. Meanwhile, the electric pump was giving me fits several times daily. Now, we are a few days past it and at an uneasy peace. Our former rhythm seems lost, but is hopefully only temporary.    

*hard! noggin!

This weekend's rain has been heavy enough to merit flash flood alerts; the backyard's a swamp, and water has snaked into the basement. Last night it was wonderful to fall asleep to, today a bit gloomier, though I looked out this afternoon just in time to see a rainbow moments before it shimmered away.

While I have yet to establish my new artwork groove, I have snuck in a bit of printmaking.

Here's the test print of Cakeasaurus, spying the cake-laden home of Quimby:

Pretty simple, not too much carving for the night scene, but I am pleased at its overall effect. I will do some "neatening" carving before I venture out to Maestra's studio to use her press, but it's 95% of the way there. I also pulled a handful of partial prints of the "floating" cake, for use in some woodblock cards. We'll see how those work with my current batch of decorative papers.

Also dropped off some more blank cards with Literati

Bookbound is also carrying a small selection of larger cards

Will You Not Add to Our Happiness? A bit of penmanship, a spot of guidance

A mind blowing play with Javier started the weekend on Friday (Shun-Kin, New York Times review here --  while we both struggled with bouncing between the supertitles above the stage and the action on the stage, like the reviewer, to my mind, the reviewer wasn't sufficiently appreciative of the absolute visual beauty of the show, which was ASTOUNDING). Yesterday brought fine bar food at Detroit's Mercury Bar with Ginger and a friend...and today, we have some more picture book noodling to round out the weekend.

Based on positive reception of these signs:

 

I decided that the Cakeasaurus picture book pages which do NOT have words incorporated into their woodblock designs may have hand lettered text added to them and then I'll eventually scan all of them into el trusty computador... I took at a stab at some initial lettering yesterday for the first page of the picture book. It wound up being too heavy handed, so it was back to the drawing board this morning.

This attempt struck me as a bit more successful, though close to the upper edge. The "T" however, was a problem. While I'm more attached to handwriting than some (most?) these days, I can't claim beautiful penmanship, and too long ago to remember I developed the unfortunate habit of mixing cursive and print together. How does one even WRITE a cursive "T"?



What's that? What's that, you say?If only you had a compendium of all things factual, both daily and esoteric, to help you navigate through life! Great point! It was, indeed, time to consult with my COMPLETE LIBRARY OF UNIVERSAL KNOWLEDGE. Surely it would have a page of cursive letters! It did not disappoint. It was a little long in yielding up a T, but oh my goodness, it had a lot more to say on the subject of handwriting (I beg your pardon: penmanship)...It has drills and notes on technique! Explanations of muscles involved! Benefits yielded from this worthy endeavor -- truly, as with so much in life, the degree to which you commit will surely be matched by life's bounty!

Details from the matter at hand: Each upper hand M should be drawn to a count of four, and 40-60 Ms should be drawn per minute. Ns get shorted by one count, and with respect to the beginning loops, "that part of the letter should take care of itself, but in size and general proportions, the copy given should be closely imitated." The library intones: "...with a slow, dragging or cramped movement, nothing of lasting value can be accomplished..."

More dramatic: "Clothing for the right forearm. As the movement taught is one in which the  muscles of the right forearm play an important part, it is highly essential that these muscles should be so clothed as to permit, at all times, unrestricted action. Many good writers consider this of sufficient importance to lead them to cut off the right undersleeve at the elbow." 

Positioning is important.

It fails to say how many Omens should be written per min. Worrisome.

Instruct with a sense of rhythm: Close em up, close em up!

I can't get with their Qs, much less penning 37 of them per min.

So, after suitable instruction and admonition, I practiced a handful of the foreign looking Ts...
I think it does suit a bit better. Reactions?

On a non-editioned print. The editioned ones are a bit darker.

 After that I just noodled along, as I am wont to do.

Bonus Tip from the COMPLETE LIBRARY OF UNIVERSAL KNOWLEDGE! Informal letters:

Splendid, I love tally-ho rides!

His Best Friend is a Racoon in a Smoking Jacket and They're Off to Play Mahjong

Toodle-Oo! All you need is a few extra long work days and the first reasonable workday out, you are filled with an outsized sense of *possibility!* for the evening, whatever will you do with the hours? You have energy! Your brain isn't mush! The bounty, the bounty! Soooo, what's it gonna be then, eh? Anything but get sucked into the internet, melding your eyes with a computer, no, how could you possibly, not when you spend all day seated at a computer, feeling your thighs jellifying with every hour. You will: Return.to.Creativity. Phew! Glad that's settled.

What I *can* tell you is that one tenth of the new items I click on Etsy all filter back to illustrator Matte Stephens, based in New Hampshire, U.S. of A. His love of mid-century art and design is readily apparent once you see his paintings peopled with animals in suits and animaled with happy introverts. They have nifty wordy titles like "Although Frederick was considered odd by his peer group, Rupert always understood him best." and "Monsieur Benoît was obviously a Walrus but that was no excuse for him to have to be served his dinner outside, the cats alone were a distraction."

The cookbook my Mom used most. Favorite is the cake icing itself

Some titles are certainly shorter and seemingly mundane, like "Glazed Ham," only the ham has a face and is smoking (get it? get it?), like my very favorite wacky vintage cook book illustrations, none of which equal Stephens' work, but his illustrations share the same spirit. His client roster is impressively large and high profile, including Tiffany, NPR, Chronicle Books, American Express, Herman Miller, etc.   

And don't you love that he also does little stop motion videos (back to his flickr account, first link). And you may think, "I'm not going to watch 3 minutes of his dog in a Citroen, but I warn you, you probably will, It's hypnotic, it has happy Frenchy* music, and you find yourself in the same place as Oliver, the dog: if you look away, you are probably going to miss something.

*I clearly have no idea.
 
"If there weren’t art supplies around in the house I would feel totally hopeless." Grain Edit has a pleasing interview with him here. He has painted since kindergarten and has worked hard enough and is talented enough to succeed -- I like that the interview shows the love of art plus a daily commitment to it:

"I really love to paint. I think if you never give up on something it will work for you in the end because you learn so much in the process of getting to where you’re going."

And within the fun slide show, his paper owl, based on one of his paintings, makes me want to lock myself away for a few days with construction paper (and pretty pretty papers from Hollander's, truth be told), scissors and glue stick/ gun (GLUE gun, not glue stick+ gun. different blog. Too much Breaking Bad notwithstanding).

Separately, were you familiar with Grain Edit? I wasn't. They specialize in art/graphics from the 50's-70s, or art done in this style. A recent post showed the work of Mattson Creative, who designed some *gorgeously* sinister screen prints for Dexter (maybe a few seasons ago? was so happy to see it again). Featured poster: Bull, by Curtis Jinkins. Want. Isn't that fantastic? Jenkins also has a funny text based screenprint of the lyrics to "Beat It"...ayaand off to gather more URL bouquets...

But first, to show that I have not been *entirely* idle...here's the progress on

"No Matter How Much They Watched, No Matter How Long They Waited...Cakes Continued to Disappear":

Tested last week

Some tweaking, but mostly ready for an edition!

Noncable Also Nap Inducing

Why does it feel like October? Rain is pattering across my roof and I have mostly forgotten the need to call a repairman for the air conditioning, which proved begrudging and mediocre during the Art Fair heatwave. And now I have just exchanged a crocheted sweater for a bulkier polar fleecy thing... feels like the leaves are readying to fall and it's time to stock up on the hot chocolate. Javier is huddled over the dining room table, watching the Daily show on his computer, after a long day of meetings and interviews; iphone is safely nearby. Mainly it seems it is to protect against moments when the video needs to buffer. Complaints have been lodged about a lack of cable at Casa M. Management does not tend to be responsive.

We spent Friday and Saturday at the Chelsea Art Market. One of the few outdoor festivals I have taken part in -- quite fun! Aside from the weather worry -- Saturday it rained, torrented, cleared up, hung heavily, was mild, was steamy, was cold, blustered, rained during bright sun, and then acted like, Rain? What Rain? Even so, enough people walked through that we got to see people react to my prints, have some cool conversations, and make enough sales for it to be worthwhile on that score. Quite a lovely event! Added bonus: wandering through the gorgeous River Gallery. You really need to see the work of the young and talented Jessica Joy London in person to appreciate its startling beauty -- there until August 17th.

The first woman to buy a print bought this one. She told me that she had just decided she wanted something for a wall in her kitchen: "But it had to be art and it had to be funny!" Serendipity! Funnier still: she hates cake. "...Yeah, it's like a weird bread on its own, but the icing is awful, too. I was grounded one time when I was younger because I refused to eat my birthday cake." Getting those glimpses into purchase decisions (/or reactions) never gets old. Such a perk of sharing creativity with one's community. And finding more community through it.

A couple told us about a printmaker they love, who opens his studio to the public in Stratford Ontario -- and a fine bed and breakfast is even nearby. Trip potential! Interesting interview with Gerard Brender a Brandis here.

Lots more to be told from the day, but the cold night advanced without my noticing. A complaint has been lodged about the buffering and one is forced to watch the small amount of channels in the living room. Hope he comes back!

This time around I made a couple signs to give people a quick sense of what the Cakeasaurus picture book project is about. I hung them above the relevant prints. Hopefully this intrigues people enough that they may want to explore the woodblock prints that may be more mysterious on their own. We shall see...

The No Cake is Safe silver ink editions are now also live over at my etsy shop, take a gander. And now to bed, to bed! Maybe it will be 80 and sunny for the first day of August...

No Cake is Safe: Platinum Editions, plus Yellow Door Luv

First things first! Yellow Door Art Market made me their Artist of the week, this week.  How fun!

Next up: a few more snaps from recent studio time. I decided to bring back "No Cake is Safe," to be printed with silver ink! This was my first time using a metallic ink. It was a bit tetchy, but I can't really say whether this is due to the age of the ink* or it's the nature of metallic inks themselves. I had to repeatedly play with it, after every other print, coax it back into spreading somewhat smoothly. But! Even so, I now have notions of combining it with other inks, perhaps a nice rich alizarin. See what happens.

*I snapped it up from an online Daniel Smith sale, like a coveted jar of liquor macerated bing cherries; and then it sat, ignored on a basement shelf.

First, I wanted a color combo with a little attitude, so naturally I went to a nice mulberry black.

Then, when I was nosing around Hollander's, one of the staff turned me onto one of his favorite papers to paint on: lokta. It's a handmade paper from the Himalayas and the colors are phenomenally rich. It takes ink from the press very nicely and the texture is just enough to enhance, but not so much to muddy the design. So: attitude on the one side, festive party on the other! 

They are still drying at the studio. Better get my signing hand ready, six small editions to number. More (happily) more to come!