Slowly Made
I started this illustration last winter, then deadlines and life got in the way. Then this sat, leaving me cross every time I walked by. It’s been a whirlwind of a year and I haven’t had as much time for personal work as I’d like. But I’ve made a deal with myself that if I get my to do list cleared off by end of day, I get a few minutes working on this. I haven’t done one of these pencil drawings in ages, mostly because they’re so labor intensive. But drawing fiddly, domestic things seems to take the edge off of whatever the stressor du jour is, so it’s back to the drafting table with this one.
Other things:
* Wodehouse in Exile is charming and quiet, with some food for thought, too.
* I finished Blood of the Isles over the long weekend. Some of the more science-y parts were a slog for me, but the book’s look at the genetic makeup of the British Isles and its intersection with myth and history was fascinating.
* I’m knitting this cardigan right now. I’m still in sandals and short sleeves because I refuse to accept fall starting before September 22, but even I have to admit autumn is right around the corner in these parts.
* This recipe for Piernik (Polish gingerbread cake) is pretty tasty.
Belle of Kilronan
For very obvious reasons, this Magnetic Fields song is one of my favorites.
I haven’t drawn any comics in eons, but was stumped on story, so had a go with these lyrics instead. Also, this is 100% digital (aside from a couple textures), which I don’t typically do, but inking traditionally usually ends up with me covered in ink. Photoshop to the rescue…
Fields and Forests
Last year, I had the good fortune to collaborate on a batch of mugs with the very talented Annie Buchholz, who runs Sunshine Design. I created the repeating pattern, which Annie added to her beautifully made pieces. The illustration was inspired by the area around Sandwich, New Hampshire, which piqued my curiosity driving up to teach at Squam in 2019. It’s hard not to get sucked into the story of a town that has a massive wall topped with an enormous statue of Niobe.
That Summer Feeling
August makes me think of this song. And that song makes me think of every childhood summer. It seemed from June until the first day of school I did nothing but swim and ride bikes and make forts and stay up long into the night reading. There was powdered lemonade and plastic lanterns strung up over the picnic table. Camping trips way up north. Perpetually bruised knees. And there’d always be beach trips, where we’d arrive when the sand was cool and the sun low and stay until a picnic dinner. I’d go back to school in September laden with freckles, full of ice cream and ready to take on the world.
Not every summer was idyllic. There was the July we all had chickenpox. And the August the dog died. But by and large, those long, languid, analog days were some of the happiest of my life. And sometimes when I’m awake far too late reading (because it’s far too hot to sleep), I feel temporarily 12. So I might have to buy some powdered lemonade, for old time’s sake.
Original Originals
I’ve been pulling original art out of files lately, trying to make room for new things. I’m slowly adding those pieces to the shop.
Owen's Disappearance
A few weeks back, I stumbled on a newspaper clipping about my great-grandfather’s cousin’s disappearance. Late one spring night, Owen Halpin left the house, distraught. He would later be found drowned in the East River. You can read the rest of the story here. It’s heart-breaking. And mysterious. And I wonder what really happened to a 60’something engineer, drowned on the eve of World War I.
Summer'ish Things
I may have co-opted my nieces’ and nephew’s markers… I’m back at final art for a 2023 picture book, after some time off spent with visiting family. I’ve mostly been glued to my drafting table since, but a few things:
* When the kids were visiting, we watched the new adaptation of The Mysterious Benedict Society. It’s an absolute gem of a show and we were waiting expectantly each week for a new episode. Also, there’s the matter of the delightfully anachronistic costume and set design. Think if Wes Anderson made a kid’s show and you’d be conjuring up about the right look.
* I’m finally getting around to reading All Creatures Great and Small. I’m also about a halfway through A Horse and His Boy, which awkwardly enough has sat unread on my bookshelf since the third grade. Guilt over this fact finally won out, which is a good thing, as it’s an awfully charming read.
* Most of what I’m listening to right now, on repeat. Be forewarned, it’s the auditory equivalent of dumping a couple of shots of espresso and a pack of pixy stixs into a blender.
