Archive for the ‘T-Town’ Category

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And just like that, the season turns. I don’t know what that Punxsutawney Phil guy thinks he knows, but his predictions rarely apply here. Spring comes early in the Northwest, and yesterday I spied this little harbinger of good things to come. I’ll take the predictions of the trees over any prognosticating rodent.

The sun’s returning in earnest now, too—not just with this batch of unexpected blue skies we’ve had lately, but with noticeably longer days. Everyone here is just a little more cheerful as a result. Suddenly, everywhere are smiles and open windows, as we all breathe in that first hint of fresh spring air.

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I’m not the only one who’s housebound today.

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Winter finally remembered us, and for the last four days the snow has been swirling.

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Today we woke up to a proper blanketing.

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So all over town, people are staying home, and watching through their windows—just like I am.

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Thank you to everybody who commented, emailed, called, tweeted, sent cards and packages, delivered chocolate, or dropped by to keep me company. Your kindness has been so wonderful, so warming. I’m doing fine, for the most part, and though we don’t have all the answers yet, what we do know is there are no broken bones or anything really scary. I go back to the doc on Friday, and hopefully we’ll have a proper diagnosis then, as well as a plan for what comes next.

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Until then, I’m here, waiting in the white.

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Well, Happy New Year indeed. This is how I’m kicking off 2012; nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition, I guess.

I was out walking Jessica’s dog Brown in my neighborhood yesterday, when I got hit by a car. It happened at one of those double-T intersections where the cross street ends, then picks back up again further down the block. I was on the main road, approaching the near T-junction, when I saw a the car stop at the far T ahead. He had his blinker on to turn right onto the main street, and I made Brown stop and wait until I was sure of what he was going to do. He turned, and then it appeared he was going to continue straight, right on past me, so I started crossing the street at my T-junction. At the last second, without using his turn signal, he veered to the left, right into my intersection. I yelled for him to stop, but he never saw or heard me. I tried to run out of the way, but he was accelerating, so he hit my left leg before I could clear his car. I went flying forward, crashed on the pavement and dropped the leash, Brown spooked and kept running, and the driver screeched to a halt and jumped out of the car. He was just a kid—sixteen, according to the police report—and even more shaken up than I was. I told him to call 9-1-1, and while he did that, several witnesses ran up to help me out of the street and bring Brown back. The emergency crew was there within minutes, and I had to laugh when the EMT checked me in at the ER and gave the official accident code to the techs: Car vs. Pedestrian. Maybe if the car had been a Smart Car and the pedestrian a Sumo wrestler, things would have ended differently.

I keep thinking of all the ways this could have been worse. If he’d been driving an SUV instead of a compact car. If I’d been one second late in crossing. If I’d been two seconds late in crossing. If he hadn’t stopped. If it had been raining, or dark outside. If there hadn’t been anyone nearby to help. All things considered, I’m mostly okay, and very lucky to be so—but it’s bad enough. I’ve got some sort of knee injury that x-rays couldn’t determine, and I can’t call to make an MRI appointment until tomorrow (happy New Year). I’ve got an impressive collection of scrapes and bruises, and while there’s no walking or driving (stick shift) in my foreseeable future, there are a lot of phone calls to make.

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So all of a sudden, all I have in the world is time. I’m trying to fill it with joyful, quietly productive things, because it makes the waiting easier. And I’ve never been more glad that we traditionally don’t take the Christmas tree down until Twelfth Night.

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As I sit, and sip, and stitch, and sit, I wish more and more for some way to thank the unknown Tacomans who helped me yesterday. The man who helped assess my injuries, lent me a phone to call home, and retrieved Brown. The woman who kept me talking in case of a concussion. The fireman who was so kindly and apologetic about the logistical questions he had to ask. The EMTs who assured me I wasn’t silly, and insisted I accept the “fuss” of an ambulance ride. The police officer who came to see me in the emergency room. Even the shaken teenager who knew enough to do the right thing.

And I wish for everyone else behind the wheel out there to stay present in the moment. Because sometimes looking both ways isn’t enough.

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I love it when a journey is required to bring Christmas home.

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Hoping yours is holly-jolly, merry and bright.

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The last of our guests will be arriving any minute, and then today will be complete.

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This year we have visitors who made a thousand-mile trek, bearing gifts of California wine and citrus—

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as well as callers just a short neighborhood stroll away, wrapped in scarves against the damp chill in the air.

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Each friend is a gift, and we raise our glasses to them in gratitude and love.

Wishing you a bountiful table with friends at every place. Happy Thanksgiving.

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Every three months my all-time favorite magazine, UPPERCASE, arrives in my mailbox, and productivity in the studio comes to a screeching halt while I drool over each gorgeous page. I’ve been a subscriber since almost the very beginning (if only I could get my paws on those first two sold-out issues!), and impossibly, every new issue is even lovelier than the one before.

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So you can imagine my giddy delight to be included in the latest installment. They had a submissions call for a feature on “labor-intensive illustration,” which was so squarely up my alley that I had to laugh at myself. But I never imagined my little birds would actually be accepted—let alone given a full page. A letterpress colleague received her copy a day or two ahead of me and tipped me off, and I swear I did a little dance around the room.

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UPPERCASE is the brainchild of a gallery by the same name in Calgary, Alberta. The magazine is tailor-made for anyone with a creative soul; every page is devoted to sharing visual inspiration, shedding light on obscure or vintage art and design work, and detailing the work lives and creative spaces of people who do what they love for a living.

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The whole thing is a perfect mix of vintage nostalgia and cutting-edge design, all wrapped up in a sumptuously printed package. If only everything in the world had this much thought and craft behind it.

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But my favorite—I mean, favourite—parts of the magazine are the recurring features. There’s an abecedary in every issue, each with a different theme (which does my bookish* heart good), as well as a series of collections of vintage objects: bottle caps, cereal boxes, even alarm clocks and—in this issue—fishing lures.

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This magazine is truly a thing of beauty, and I hope it’s around for me to keep my subscription going for many years—and issues—to come. You can buy single issues, or start your own subscription, right here.

(* Pssst! Try adding a coupon code to your order!)

Speaking of hodge-podge collections of odds and ends, you should see the piles of things, er, occupying (hint!) my drafting table this month. You see, Art at Work month is almost here, and I’m scrambling to get ready for all the events coming down the pike.

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Who is this, I wonder?

First up is Studio Tour, that crazy-amazing weekend where it seems like half of Tacoma (the entirely wonderful half, as it turns out) stops by for a visit. This is my third time on the circuit, but our fair city is celebrating its tenth fabulous year of shop crawls and arts extravaganzas. So stop on by next weekend—you can print your own letterpress keepsake (trust me, they’re über cool this year!), pick up free Tacoma swag (better get here early, because it’ll disappear fast), shop for a whole bunch of brand new art and handmade items, and be the first to catch our brand new Dead Feminist, a mystery maiden indeed.

10th Annual Tacoma Studio Tour
Saturday and Sunday, November 5 and 6
10 am to 4 pm, Free!
For more info, full artist list, maps and directions, see here

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Look! New stuff!

If you can’t make it to Studio Tour, you can catch a whole bunch of Tacoma artists at the annual Holiday Artist Craft Fair, put together by the lovely folks at Indie Tacoma and Tacoma is for Lovers. Jessica and I will be sharing a table both days, and it’ll stuffed to the brim with bunly goodness illustrated and letterpress goodies.

Holiday Artist Craft Fair
Saturday and Sunday, November 19 and 20
11 am to 4 pm, Free!
King’s Books
218 St. Helens Ave., Tacoma

Last but not least, a gigantic virtual heart-shaped thank you to everyone who made a pledge to fund the Apocalypse Calendar! The project is officially a “go,” and we’ll be on press in November. We’re expecting to ship calendars and Kickstarter rewards in early December, and you’ll find calendars in various retail shops this holiday season. If you missed the Kickstarter project, you’ll be able to place online orders here, starting later this week.

Happy Halloween, and see you in November!

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Commencement Bay from the North End, Tacoma, WA

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Pumpkin patches, Vancouver Island, BC

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First squash haul of the year from Zestful Gardens, Puyallup, WA

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Cranberry harvest, Long Beach, WA

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Japanese maple, Butchart Gardens, Brentwood Bay, BC

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Proctor District in the rain, Tacoma, WA

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St. Johns Bridge, Portland, OR

Have I mentioned that I love autumn in the Northwest?

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Heceda Head Light, OR

As you may have noticed, I kind of have a thing for lighthouses.

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Point Wilson Light, Port Townsend, WA

It’s no surprise they’ve cropped up in my work lately, since my corner of the world is fair teeming with them.

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Tatoosh Island, Cape Flattery, WA

But I find myself sneaking them in every now and again, even when it’s not strictly necessary.

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Cape Disappointment, Ilwaco, WA

So you can imagine my excitement on my Pacific coast trip,

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Point Reyes, CA

upon finding a beacon practically around every corner.

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Battery Point, Crescent City, CA

So you can bet that on my trip back east,

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Umpqua River Light, Winchester Bay, OR

I’ll be keeping a sharp eye out.

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Point Robinson Light, Maury Island, WA

And I’m betting that if my drawing hand has anything to do with it, something new will come out of it before long.

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Today is Memorial Day in the United States, a holiday designated for the remembrance of those who have served in time of war. But on this day, Jessica and I can’t help but extend our thoughts to others as well, in the spirit of peace. Today our eyes and hearts are trained on the far shores of the Pacific, where the people of Japan are still reeling from the March 11 earthquake, tsunami and nuclear disaster. So for our twelfth Dead Feminist broadside, we remember them by giving wings to the words of our youngest-ever feminist, Sadako Sasaki:

I will write peace on your wings and you will fly all over the world.

As you can probably tell, this piece is a bit of a departure from our usual way of doing things. This time it just didn’t feel right to let the typography run amok, or to fill every inch of real estate with illustrated goodies. So instead, we simply opened the door and let our imaginations take flight. The quote stands quietly apart, running parallel to a flock of origami cranes rising upward from a persimmon sun. As they follow Sadako’s words and wishes, they transform into red-crowned tancho cranes, disappearing off the page.

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Since the traditions and history of Japanese printmaking are a veritable goldmine, the sky was literally the limit when it came to inspiration. But I had something particular in mind:

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This is Cranes and New Year Sun by Utagawa Hiroshige; I had the good fortune of seeing the piece in person earlier this year at the Tacoma Art Museum. Not only is it a beautiful image, but it has an interesting quirk that sort of stuck in my craw. See that line running halfway through the composition on the left? The piece is made up of two sheets of paper; it was originally designed to function as the front and rear endsheets of a book. As far as I know, the original viewer never would have seen the image as a whole—and maybe never would have given it a second thought. But together, the two halves of the image form a stunning vertical composition. That kind of brilliance blows my mind.

There’s also a bit of a practical homage for us here: just as Hiroshige’s illustration is made up of two parts, each one of our Dead Feminist broadsides is also comprised of two halves. For us it’s purely a technical limitation—Jessica’s photopolymer platemaker can only make plates that are about 8 x 10 inches in size. So since each of our prints is 10 x 18 inches, we have to break the illustration up and print it in two sections: one set of plates for the top, and another for the bottom. So that means that somewhere in every one of our broadsides, there’s a little break running horizontally through the composition. We usually try to hide it as cleverly as possible, or at least blend it in with the overall design, but it’s always there. Take a look at some of our previous prints and see if you can find it. Mind the gap!

Anyway, making references to other artists is also a bit of a running theme in Japanese art. Recognize that wave at the bottom of Hiroshige’s image?

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Yeah, I thought you did. I think Hiroshige would have understood.

Speaking of whom we have to thank for all of this, I’d like to send out a special, wingéd bit of gratitude to Hiroshi Oki for providing us with his exquisite kanji (Japanese calligraphy) rendition of Sadako’s name—and to his daughter Shiori for introducing us.

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The thing that has just enchanted us both about this project is the very idea of imbuing paper with a wish—of creating something so labor-intensive and time consuming, and then sending it out into the world for a greater purpose. Sadako wasn’t the only person to fold cranes for a wish, but she might be the most well-known. Every year, on the anniversary of the atomic bombing, Sadako’s monument in Hiroshima is festooned with thousands upon thousands of cranes—so many that permanent shelters have been erected there to house and protect them. And even in Western countries, it’s become somewhat of a tradition to give senbazuru (a set of 1000 paper cranes) as a gift to cancer patients. Talk about a ripple becoming a tidal wave.

In that spirit, we’ll be donating a portion of our proceeds to Peace Winds America, a non-profit organization based in Seattle and dedicated to disaster response worldwide. The donation will be directed to the Japan Relief & Recovery Fund, used to rebuild local infrastructure and restore the livelihoods and communities of those affected by the earthquake and tsunami. We’d like to think of this as a little senbazuru of our own.

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Peace Unfolds: No. 12 in the (Dead) Feminist Broadside series
Edition size: 166
Poster size: 10 x 18 inches

Printed on an antique Vandercook Universal One press, on archival, 100% rag paper. Each piece is numbered and signed by both artists.

Colophon reads:
According to Japanese legend, one who folds 1000 origami cranes will be granted a wish. After being diagnosed with leukemia—a result of her proximity to the atomic bombing of Hiroshima—Sadako Sasaki (1943 – 1955) began folding paper, hoping to live. With her best friend Chizuko, she finished 644 cranes before her death at age 12. Sadako was buried with a wreath of 1000 cranes completed by her schoolmates, and is honored with the Children’s Peace Monument in the center of Hiroshima.

Illustrated by Chandler O’Leary and printed by Jessica Spring, with kanji by Hiroshi Oki, in memory of those lost and suffering in Japan—and with a wish for hope, peace and life, once again.

Price: $35

Available now in the shop!

The next Dead Feminist Broadside will be released on August 4, 2011, at the Ladies of Letterpress Conference in Asheville, NC (letterpress folks, hope to see you there!). Look for it online on August 10.

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?