Archive for the ‘Fluff’ Category

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Just wanted to give you a peek at what I’ve been doing these days. I try not to think about it too hard, because I officially unveiled the thing almost a year ago, but I’m still working on my book.

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Big dang pile of box parts; coffee cup provided for scale.

You see, it’s one thing to get the prototype done for the exhibition, but when you’re making an edition of books, that means you have to finish all the rest of the copies, too.

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Obviously, I have my work cut out for me.

Now, to hear the ancient Mayans tell it, I’d best hurry—because time is running out. And there are still so many pictures to draw!

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Illustration by Zander Cannon

So my good friend and old-tyme RISD buddy Thomas Quinn had the ingenious idea to count down our remaining days in style by designing and curating a 2012 Apocalypse Calendar, featuring a different artist for each month. The result of all his hard work (read: herding cats) is a fabulous collection of artwork—and possibly a niggling sense of dread as the days count down.

Besides the added bonus of working alongside old friends (Maris Wicks! Dan Hertzberg! Ryan Browne!) and rock-star artists I’ve admired for years (Jay Ryan! Zander Cannon!), I loved the fact that T.Q. let me interpret the theme however I pleased. Rather than going down the illustrated path of mass carnage or Biblical archetypes (I figured those topics would be well covered by the other folks), I decided to time-travel back to my favorite mass-hysterical era, the 1950s.

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I did a little research, and dug up a whole bunch of vintage advice on how to survive the end of the world—including a handbook on how to build a fallout shelter, and how to keep yourself amused once you’re in there.

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This thing just cracked me up. It has all kinds of “expert” wisdom (like how to fend off the roving bands of contaminated neighbors who will inevitably stop by to borrow a cup of sugar) and cheery photos of housewives preparing dinner with a can opener while dear ol’ Dad bonds with the kids.

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Which, of course, reminded me of my other favorite relic from the 50s: illustrated cookbooks. Talk about a goldmine! Everybody from uncredited production interns to the late, great Charley Harper did a cookbook back in the day. The fact that these illustrators were often limited to cheap, two-color printing actually made for surprising, innovative and beautiful results.

And of course, as you already know, I am completely fascinated by the sheer number of terrifying Jell-o recipes and ill-advised casseroles that crop up in old cookbooks.

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And since that got me thinking all sorts of wonderfully twisted things about housewives at the End Times, and how Jell-o can probably survive a nuclear holocaust, I decided to combine the two.

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So here’s my contribution to the calendar: how to bury your head in the sand, in style. I asked T.Q. for October, since it’s my birthday month, and he was kind enough to oblige. So I went nuts with the pumpkin orange and threw a Halloween party. Complete with absurd salad recipe (that you could actually make, but I wouldn’t advise it), shelter decorating hints, and just a little untold destruction, for garnish.

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Illustration by Steve Seeley

We decided that spiffy, large-format, high-quality offset printing is the best way to show off the artwork, so we’ve set up a Kickstarter project to fund the thing. (We even put together a nifty and hilarious video!) Kickstarter is a fairly new phenomenon, and it’s proven to be a wonderful resource for artists, especially—and since the Kickstarter logo uses the same font as the Dunkin Donuts logo, it makes my designer’s lizard brain happy.

Kickstarter works the way an NPR pledge drive does—you get various gifts in return for your support amount. Twenty bucks will buy you a calendar, and there are a bunch of goodies available at other pledge levels, like signed calendars, original art, and even the ability to make the artist of your choice do your bidding and draw your apocalyptic portrait. (Yes, you read that right.) As of today we’ve got 24 days left, and if we meet our goal, we’ll be shipping calendars in December.

Now, the tricky thing about Kickstarter is that it’s an all-or-nothing kind of thing. If we don’t make our set funding goal by the time the clock runs out, the apocalypse will come early we don’t get any of the moolah pledged so far. So pretty please, do us a huge favor by doing your annual calendar shopping a wee bit early—you can make your pledge here.

After all, if the Mayans have their facts straight, this is the last calendar you’ll ever need to buy, right?

Holy flying gaggles, but we upped the ante this year!

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I don’t know if it was the gorgeous sunshine that graced us after literally months of dreary rain—

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Colossal portrait by Hutch and the students of Charles Wright Academy

or if it was the near-superhuman feats of linoleum carving—

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or sweet pea’s extra-awesome 2011 poncho—

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but this year’s Wayzgoose was larger than life.

(In case you’re curious, that little Sigwalt press is inked up to print “I got goosed in Tacoma!” in an eye-frying safety orange that would make any Ducks Geese Unlimited hunter proud. I mean, come on—we have standards. This is some high-brow entertainment here.)

Anyway, speaking of geese…

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Ta-daaaa!

As you can see, we took our little Dead Feminists theme somewhat loosely this time. And in fact, we’ve dubbed our print Loosey Goosey, so there! There is a bit of a story behind this one, though. We’ve been equal parts amused and annoyed by the recent crafty and pop-cultural trends involving moustaches and putting birds on things—and for months I’ve been threatening to put a moustache on a bird on something, just to prove a point. I don’t know what that point is, exactly, but I figured it was time to put my moustache where my mouth is.

Which reminds me:

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we weren’t kidding about the ’stache wax. Hey, if you’re going to go, go all out.

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Jessica seemed perfectly at home while operating heavy machinery and sporting a full-on Wilford Brimley look—

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I mostly just looked like Ned Flanders.

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That’s okay, though—synchronized inking is serious business, and this duo don’t mess around.

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And we weren’t the only ones. Lance and Tom of Beautiful Angle, Tacoma’s original letterpress pair, were on hand to show everyone how it’s done. And they have real facial hair, to boot!

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Perennial crowd-pleaser Ric Matthies rounded out the accidental animal theme (we still don’t know how that happened).

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A ridiculously talented crop of newcomers included my friends Katy and Keegan, who comprise Portland’s Keeganmeegan & Co;

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the fabulously clever Sarah Utter of Olympia;

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and Tacoma’s own Audra Laymon, who rose to the occasion beautifully.

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Many, many thanks to all the supporters, enthusiasts and volunteers who turned out in droves;

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to Katy Meegan and Mary Holste for snapping ’stache shots for us;

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to King’s for being the host with the most;

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and to the Tacoma Arts Commission for sponsoring our steamroller shenanigans.

So … tell me.

Is it too soon to start cookin’ up next year’s ‘goose?

Hi. Remember me? That’s okay, I don’t remember me, either.

Next time I try to rationalize to myself the reasons for not blogging, and I think, There’s no time, I’m going to remind myself that at least I don’t have to hand-carve my blog, backwards, out of a gigantic industrial sheet of linoleum, and then print it in the street with a steamroller.

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Wait. Maybe that would actually get me to blog more often.

Anyway, Jessica and I have locked ourselves in her studio with an armful of Talking Heads records (go, portable turntable!) and some very sharp knives. Don’t worry about us, though—it’s just an annual tradition here in T-town.

That’s because this Sunday is the seventh annual Wayzgoose, that crazy letterpress block party that draws hordes, flocks, gaggles of people to King’s Books for some seriously huge fun. And we’ll be polishing up our street cred with the main event—steamroller printing. We’ll be pounding that pavement come rain or shine (please, pray for shine), so stop by and check it out!

7th Annual Wayzgoose
Sunday, April 17, 2011
11 am to 4 pm
Free!
King’s Books
218 St. Helens Ave., Tacoma
More information and artist roster here

Near the top of a very long list of things I love about Tacoma is the sheer number of people here who know what the heck a Wayzgoose is. If you haven’t experienced ours for yourself yet, you’re in for a treat. Meet a whole host of local and regional artists; shop a huge array of letterpress art and gifts; make your own books and posters; and don’t forget to bring a t-shirt! The D.I.Y. screen printing booth will back by popular demand, and this year, some of the street-printing artists (including yours truly) are going to have bite-sized versions of their steamroller designs ready to be made into t-shirts. I know what I’ll be wearing this weekend.

Speaking of which … Jessica and I don’t want to ruin the surprise, so we’re keeping our design under wraps for now. But let’s just say that this year we’ll be getting our feathers ruffled—

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—and breaking out the ’stache wax.

See you Sunday!

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Somehow I’ve managed to tear myself away from the massive pile of drawings a couple of times in the past two weeks—once for a quick trip to my beloved Olympia Farmers Market to pick up a few things. (Look, fractal geometry!)

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Okay, maybe “few” is stretching the truth a bit, since one of those items was fifty pounds of organic Romas, destined for tomato sauce. These babies are a month late, and we’re lucky to have them at all. It’s been a dismal summer for tomato growers here—but hey, it’s nice to have that one last bit of summer when you can get it.

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The other time was for a little taste of the winter to come: the lovely GeekKnitter and I met at the Oregon Flock & Fiber Festival for a little quality time with the kids.

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Apart from the obvious things, like hanging out with fun blogger friends and buying massive quantities of yarn, this was a research trip. (I’m not telling you what for yet! It’s a secret.)

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And even if it weren’t, I just love the idea of meeting the source of your sweater.

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Besides, who could resist that face? Square pupils. Swoon.

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Back soon with some more wool-related stuff! Baaa-a-a-a!

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Judging by the chilly rain that’s suddenly arrived, the rapidly diminishing daylight and the maples that are already starting to turn, summer is officially over. But maybe it’s all those years I spent going to the Minnesota State Fair, because the end of summer has always got me dreaming of still-hot days and fried food on a stick—and I find myself handing out metaphorical blue and red ribbons to the winners of nonexistent competitions.

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Take, for example, yesterday morning, when I had to return some library books to the Kitsap Regional Library. Since I could visit any library in the system to do it, I picked one in a town I had never yet visited: Poulsbo (pronounced “Paul’s Boh”).

To kill a few minutes before the library opened, I parked the car next to a waterfront park, and took a stroll along the boardwalk that extended toward the center of town. I have no idea what I was expecting to find at the end of the boardwalk—

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but it certainly wasn’t anything quite this adorable.

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Tucked away on a fjordy arm of the Sound, Poulsbo was settled in the 1880s by Scandinavian immigrants (the ones who didn’t stay in Minnesota to start up the State Fair, that is).

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And it’s been a little piece of Norway ever since. In fact, Norwegian was the primary language here until World War II; and even yesterday, I swear on my own grave that I overheard a conversation in Norwegian. Hey, I didn’t live in both Minnesota and North Dakota for nothing—my friend Bridget would be proud of me for picking out all the “jeg“s and ”er“s and ”av“s she taught me long ago.

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So Poulsbo gets a blue ribbon for charm and gratuitous outdoor use of Norsk.

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Eventually I remembered what I was there for in the first place—and then, when I laid eyes on the carved pillars and intricate paneling, I had to make sure I had written down the correct address.

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I think it’s safe to say that Poulsbo has also netted the Most Beautiful Library ribbon—

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aaaand another blue for Cutest-as-a-Button church steeple.

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Before I headed for home, I walked the rest of Front Street—and stopped dead when I saw this sign. I don’t have a drop of Norwegian blood in my veins, but I do know my way around a Norse bakery.

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Lefse wasn’t on the menu that day, but I did find the perfect treat for my State Fair state of mind. Oh, yes. Another blue ribbon.

What can I say? Poulsbo knows the ways to my heart.

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P.S. Thank you to everyone who ordered a copy of On a Mission, or spread the word, or said such nice things to us! The Postal Service is sending a flock of oversized flat packages to the four winds—if one has your name on it, it’ll find you soon!

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Jessica and I are waist-deep in the new Dead Feminist print (look for it here next week), so I’m just popping in to wave hello—and to warn you, in badly-dubbed English, about the giant goose climbing the Space Needle.

Just kidding … but they will be sending in the steamrollers. This Saturday, in the Needle’s mighty shadow, is Seattle’s biggest letterpress party of the year: Wayzgoose. The weather is supposed to be perfect, so come on over and say hi to scads of letterpress artists, print your very own keepsake in the studios, and referee the Steamroller Smackdown outside. Jessica and I won’t be steamrolling this time, but we will have a table in the marketplace—so don’t be a stranger!

Here’s the skinny:

9th Annual Seattle Wayzgoose
Saturday, August 28, 2010
1 to 6 pm
Free!
School of Visual Concepts
500 Aurora Avenue North, Seattle
More information and RSVP here

The lovely ‘Goose wranglers at SVC asked me to design this year’s postcard; I think I was watching too many Japanese monster movies at the time. But monsters and letterpress seem to go well together; the postcard is lovingly letterpress printed by the talented titans at Evolution Press.

I have a small stack of postcards left—if you’d like one, just leave a comment here and/or email your snail mail address to me at chandler [at] anagram-press [dot] com. So if your travel plans don’t include winging to Seattle this weekend, I’ll be sending little feathers of Seattle winging out to you.

Update: all gone! For those of you who asked for one, check your mailboxes!

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The Tailor and I had some errands to run in Portland yesterday, and since the the rain that has been pounding us for two weeks was finally starting to give way to sun, we decided to take the long way home, along the winding coastal road.

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We stopped for clam chowder in Astoria, Oregon—a historic hill town (and one of the oldest settlements in the Pacific Northwest) perched above the mouth of the Columbia River. Beautiful views and Victorian houses aside, the really fun thing to do in Astoria is to look for the locations used in films like Short Circuit, Kindergarten Cop (it’s not a too-muh!), and The Goonies.

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We meandered through a few neighborhood streets and an antique shop on the main drag, but as we had several hours to drive yet, and since the sun was setting in earnest by the time we finished dinner, there wasn’t time to play movie tourist. But as we walked back to the car, we saw a theatre marquee announcing that next weekend, Astoria would have a celebration honoring the 25th anniversary of The Goonies!

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After a few depressing moments where we realized how old that made us feel, and that we had uncancellable plans for next weekend (though if you want Corey Feldman’s autograph, you might want to check it out), the Tailor started getting excited.

Him: I want to watch The Goonies when we get home!
Me: We don’t have The Goonies.
Him: We’ll swing by Stadium Video!
Me: I seriously doubt they’ll still be open.
Him: What if we bought a copy on the way home? There’s got to be a Target or something between here and Tacoma.
Me: Didn’t we decide to take the back road so we’d miss all that? There’s nothing for a hundred miles!
Him: Well, yeah. C’mon, everything is closing here. Where can we go to find DVDs for sale?
Me: Hmm, if we can get to Olympia by 10:00, we might find a store that’s still open.

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Well, as expected, the drive was beautiful but desolate. When we finally reached the outer suburban ring of West Olympia, it was 10:30, but since we had arrived in the land of chain stores, it was worth a try. Despite the guilt over our sudden willingness to hand our money over to corporations, we tried three big-box stores that start with a “B,” two of which that, like everything else at that hour, were shut tight. Since we still had that last shred of hippie conviction that prevented us from trying to find a Walmart, we gave up and headed for home.

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But then, just before we reached the highway again, I spotted (through my doubloon, of course) a Blockbuster Video on the left, with a neon “Open” sign in the window. I had just enough time to roll my eyes and slam on the turn signal before some instinct took over and steered the car into the parking lot. It took some digging, but buried in a corner was a miraculous, unassuming copy of The Goonies.

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Needless to say, we stayed up way too late last night. Goonies never say die!

* * *

Sorry about the long gap in posts; Jessica and I are waist-deep in the new Feminist Broadside, which will be released a month behind schedule. Details soon, but the short version of the story is that a paper-procurement issue and the Gulf oil spill sent us veering in another direction. Look for a sneak peek in a few days!

What with a string of out-of-town visitors and deadlines to distract us,  the Tailor and I let our first anniversary slide by without much fanfare. This week, however, we remembered the nostalgic, circa-early-1980s, licensed-character Wilton cake pans we borrowed from his parents last winter, and decided a belated, totally un-wedding-like anniversary cake was in order. (Sane people just go out for a nice dinner.)

When I was a kid I loved the weird, hairy-looking frosting on those Cookie Monster and Pac Man cakes, but I don’t remember actually having one at any of my birthdays (I usually requested pumpkin pie, still my favorite dessert). So this was my chance to both relive and rewrite my childhood—and to try my hand at creating that bizarre, strangely satisfying frosting texture. The trouble is, ordinary food coloring is squarely on our Do Not Buy list—those dyes are pretty heinous in terms of processed chemicals and unsustainable food practices. A few weeks ago, though, we found some natural dyes made from things like beet juice and tumeric—game on!

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The Tailor found a white cake recipe in our favorite cook book (we have three copies!), and we modified an icing recipe to include only butter, sugar, vanilla and cream (about the only thing you’ll ever see me using shortening for is cleaning letterpress equipment). Then I noticed that our Bugs Bunny cake mold left room to write a message in icing—and my eyes strayed to my decorating tip, which was shaped curiously like a calligraphy pen nib. So I couldn’t resist attempting a little edible typography. The cake wasn’t large enough to write “Happy Anniversary” with any typographic flair—and that’s not my style anyway. So I went with something a little more down-to-earth, and, well, appropriate to the medium:

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(We did. Most joyfully. My kerning needs some work, though.)