Good news and glad tidings! The printed proof of my little book of Inktober drawings arrived, and I’m releasing it to the world, so have at. Order away!
Today, too, I went to press to see my first few printed items since working at NYC & Co; a very satisfying and exciting mission for a freezing Wednesday morning in December.
Here are a few photographs I shot of the cover and a couple of spreads in the ol’ Museum (under incandescent, so you can feel like you’re here. It’s cozy here.) to further entice.
I want so much to write. I’d like to be still for a day or two; to draw. To draw at a rate more like I was in October— daily. Or nearly so. To have space for things to percolate and bubble to the surface from below.
Instead, I’ve been kept moving, pulled in multiple directions— and good ones. I’m feeling positive and interested in both the work and other pursuits I’ve been drawn to lately. But I miss the drawing, and its attendant writing.
I look forward to my week upstate at Christmastide, to be still some. And of course to time spent with my family and the animals. Wanders around the Farm to say hi to the Dudes*, take photos, and listen to the quiet of winter up there. Walk the fields. Watch murder mysteries with Mom; talk books and politics with Dad; see a movie with the brothers, sisters-in-law, nieces and nephews. (Probably the odd game of euchre or gin rummy.)
Some quiet nights in the second floor with a big orange cat lying on the bed as I read or type away on my laptop. Maybe he and I will get lost in the attic for minute, time traveling through old things, cast aways in an uninsulated room where the occasional bird finds her way in but not out— leaving behind, at length, a pile of airy bones in the low-ceilinged space beneath the pitched roof. A room mostly neglected and filled with the memories of several generations. (My kind of room)
All these things will make me feel rested and calm; remind me that no one is ever at the helm in this world. Not for long, anyway, and there is a comfort in that. Just as there is comfort in watching slow snow falling on the grass, gone brown in the fall in preparation for the long winter’s sleep.
. . .
It’s almost impossible to fathom the number of people— of individuals, families— that fill the buildings of New York City. Five boroughs filled with I don’t know how many buildings; and many if not most of those buildings contain anywhere from six to twenty-six apartments or more.
Every window may represent a person. It boggles the mind. And when one thinks of such density, you realize how very harmonious cities can be, and often are. Millions of people, and most of us all getting on with our lives with very little conflict. Rush hours on the subway illustrate this daily; very genteel, all things considered.
. . .
I wish to append this now, twelve hours later.
Very shortly after I posted this idyllic meander, I learned that there’d been a pipe bombing at Port Authority in Midtown Manhattan. It was trending (dreadful word) on twitter just before I left for the train to the ‘Hatters. That man made a liar of me, or tried to. Happily, New Yorkers know how to trudge on and deal with the train delays, and not allow such bullshit to fetter. That kid #failed, in more ways than one.
[This post brought to you by the hashtags #LiveLife #LoveLife #NoFear]
Once again I missed my Thursday post. I was at work late. We were shooting a little set up of cut paper buildings for a campaign, and they reminded me of this illustration I did for a holiday card a few years ago, which has sort of the look of cut paper.
Below is a close up (in black and white) of part of the scene we shot last night. One of my co-workers and I spent the batter part of two days cutting and assembling the layered structures.
I have at last finished work on a small book of my Inktober drawings, as seen here during the month of October. I will be publishing it via Lulu.com, and it will contain all 31 drawings. I’m awaiting a printed proof to make certain that all looks well.
I realize it’s cutting things rather fine in terms of holidays and shipping, but it has been a challenge to make time to complete it. There will be photos of the printed book and a link forthcoming, so watch this space— or follow this blog to get email updates.
Sorry I missed yesterday’s post deadline. Here is one from the archives for December first. Car in Snow.
The day following the feast was sunny and mild, inviting of a long wander. Following lunch in a sunny local, we embarked on a meandering walk that included many stops along the way in a handful of neighborhoods.
Eventually we found ourselves again at the harbor, staring out at moon-glittered water in the early dark. We breathed in the salt smell of that black and brackish channel where the sea and river meet; entrance and exit of the city where boats are welcomed by la dame verte.