forces of nature

The tsunami in Japan and it's aftermath remain unfathomable. I walk around my little island and say prayers to the trees, for recovery, for renewal. The sump pump burbles incessantly in the basement, as the snow melt runs down to the sea.

I'm happy to have more studio time, for illustrations for a book project. This week, oddly, everything was under water.  First, a spread about coral. This is a detail.

Next, four species of fish, affected by warmer temps: trout, salmon, bass, and carp. This is a detail of the bass and carp, plus their tags for labeling.

Then I drew a loggerhead turtle, who is laying eggs that may be washed away by rising sea levels.

Over the weekend, the sun came out. Finally! A walk in the woods always brings a new perspective.
Spotted this fallen birch covered with scalloped lichen.

Returning to my studio, I drew a marmot, coming out of hibernation high in the mountains.
Groundhog day? This is a detail of a two page spread.

By Saturday evening, I was ready for a little lunacy. Headed backshore for the advertised "super moon." As a regular contributor to the Lunar Calendar for over 20 years, I generally don't miss a full moonrise on the back shore. They are a cosmic sight to behold. Thanks to my calendar, which lists the moon rise and set times for every day of 13 lunar cycles, I know when to show up. You don't want to miss the moment it emerges from the ocean's horizon, as hot as a neon sign.

It was a brisk and blustery moment, one shared with a community of lunatics. It gets us roused for the next round of reality.

On Sunday, it was time to stand an egg on end, a feat of the spring equinox. Just before 7:30 PM, we tried balancing an egg on it's end. It worked with one, but only momentarily with another.
Something about equilibrium, balance, and natural mysteries.

Even though snow was in the forecast today, I was buoyed by spring. Drew another piece for the book project, an arctic fox. Something sinister looms in the air, but animals adapt. We hope.

 

Tomorrow I'll be back in the Hive at MECA. 

My show of pastels from Ice Harbor Mittens comes down at Knit Wit this Thursday. Hope you saw it!

 The pink in the shop goes lovely with my work, if I do say so myself.

boston blast

I've been digging in to my current project with all hands on deck. Drawing a multitude of animals, and taking lots of notes.

  

I scavenged a plastic bear from my daughter's neglected toy bin to help with shadows and form for the book jacket sketches.

These two sketches (cropped here) were the favorites out of 8 variations.

 

I did a color comp for the publisher's jacket meeting. Again, here is just the bear.

While awaiting feedback on cover issues, I resumed working on the interior illustrations. Just as I was about to tackle a complex page of penguins underwater eating krill, DING! The bell rang for school vacation. 

We made a blast down to Boston, where my better half and I met, so many moons ago at the Boston Globe. And where did we go first? Yes, the penguin pool at the New England Aquarium. They have a little comic "Penguin Power Adventure Guide" that educates about climate change and overfishing in simplified, graphic form. I tried sketching the zippy penguins, who zip far too fast for my camera. Seen from above, it's like they are flying in the wave pool.

Quite a few are content to just chill in the shower.

Had my eyes peeled for lots of other things I still need to draw, such as coral. Of course, the coral in these tanks are fake. But I marvel at who fabricated these. The problem is that climate change is draining coral of color like this.

We circled and circled the central tank, mesmerized. Along with about a jillion other families. It made my day to have a face-to-face with this guy.

So much immersion led us to get wet, too. The hotel has a nice view from the pool.

From there we headed to the Boston Athenaeum, for a fantastic exhibit of Edward Gorey's work.
Croquet in the snow, anyone?

Gorey's work has surely inspired Tim Burton, Peter Sis, and countless others, with his meticulously detailed line and eccentric wit. I loved seeing sketches and lists of made-up words, decorated envelopes, and hand-stitched toys alongside unpublished pieces and fond favorites. Go see it!

Next stop was Mass Art, for an animation exhibit, "Astatic." I thought my daughter might find some inspiration for an animation project she's doing. But, the show was not entirely appropriate for children. Some of it was fun, but a room of Nathalie Djurberg's work was unwatchable after just a few seconds.

Nothing can just be what it is anymore. Like our multi-tasking society, art often has multiple layers now, of both meaning and form. This piece by Atsushi Kaga was an installation as well as a  naive animation made with child-like lines, but it was by no means simple-minded. It had a charming quality that made you want to play with it.

In the Stephen D. Paine Gallery, we encountered a much more satisfying show. Artist Joe Fig interviewed a group of artists and then made miniatures of their studios, displayed along with their work. It was fresh and engaging;  his ability to displace one's sense of scale and consider the maker, the maker's space, and the viewer's relationship to all that creation, made so perfectly tangible, was stunning.

This is a view inside the studio of April Gornik.

Here, from another angle, is a giant viewer.

The mental scale transport was incredibly fun. One can pretend to be a giant looking at the whole gallery, or imagine an enormous face peering over gallery goers.

With that, another bell rang. Time to head back to Maine, the vacation meter had expired. We've returned to our island orbit. Nothing like a blast to Boston to refresh our sights!