Our latest auction draws on Robbi’s lifelong fascination with whales, birds, water, and the bewitching interplay of airborne and aquatic life. By now you know the drill. Do not resist your mighty longing to possess this illustration so that you can have it converted into a tattoo for your left thigh.
You know you want this illustration. Here’s what to do:
1. Visit the Ebay link for this auction
2. Remember how good it felt the last time you were in Vegas.
3. Bid higher and higher and higher, in spite of common sense, in spite of the long odds.
4. If you’re not feeling sufficiently reckless, have a cocktail or two.
5. Repeat steps 1-4 (especially 4).
For reasons not unrelated to personal philosophy, I seldom pay much attention to the weather. What happens outside will happen outside regardless of whether or not I’m prepared for it. Because of this willful ignorance, I was completely surprised when my good friend and weather enthusiast David called last Friday night in a state of agitation and jealousy, informing me that I was about to be the lucky recipient of the worst (read best) snowstorm to hit the Mid-Atlantic in a long time.
It started snowing around 5:00 Friday evening. When we woke up Saturday morning, the world had been transformed.
I’m not sure what the official count was, but it seems we got at least two feet. The barn was buried.
Iggy was beside herself with excitement. Or perhaps it was cold feet? Whatever the reason, she ran about in full scamper.
Our neighbor Ann, who apparently does pay attention to the weather, had the good sense to track down a sled in advance. She and Alden took to the streets.
It was not altogether clear whether or not Alden enjoyed it.
And yet she kept demanding to be dragged up the street and back again, over and over and over.
I have come to the conclusion that Alden loves enormous amounts of snow, but in a stoic, steely sort of way.
Even Kato got into the action, though it was also difficult to gauge his feelings about the situation.
Iggy was not ambivalent. She continued to romp, long after the rest of us were tired and cold and ready to go back inside.
Not a single car drove down Queen Street all day long. It was truly a dog’s world outside.
It was above freezing today, and some of the snow melted, but we remain convincingly buried. I suppose the silver lining to my recent run-in with the deer is that our car is safely in the shop and not currently marooned beneath a mountain of snow.
Apparently, the parts have been ordered and are supposed to arrive tomorrow. But I’m guessing the big snow might throw a wrench in those plans. We’re supposed to get more snow on Wednesday, according to the weather man. But of course, I don’t pay attention to that sort of thing.
Getting the Makers Tiles card set produced is a much longer process than our usual book projects. Usually, I finish the illustrations at the 11th hour, print all the subscriber books out, Matthew trims, staples, binds and covers them, and we assemble the mailing the next day. It’s a whirlwind of high-octane activity and we are both miserable and clawing each others’ eyes out by the time it’s over. But, like I said, it’s usually over in two days. And then we can get back to being friends again.
The Makers Tiles card set is different. Mostly because it had to be sent to China in order to be produced. Turns out, those Chinese do remarkably good work. I was convinced that they could handle the precision of this job after watching the opening ceremonies at the 2008 Olympics. So, the proof sheets have come back in the mail already, and I had to hold the card sheet up to the light in order to make sure the fronts and the backs of the cards lined up. The sheet was too big for my measly 11×17 light table, so I had to get creative (and wait for daylight).
The cards will all be printed on this one sheet and then precisely trimmed into 3×3 cards afterwards. And, actually, they’ll be printed on a much heavier stock – this was just a proof to show how it would line up.
The backs of the cards will have a simple design on them (each card divided (from corner to corner) into two color field triangles) that, when the cards are face down, can be rearranged, rotated and organized to make different patterns. Kind of like tangrams, except if you only had two pieces. For example – 8 tiles:
can be recombined into a variety of different patterns, for example this:
or this:
Which is, admittedly, not as great as having lots of different pieces, but frankly it got too frickin’ complicated to design a bunch of different card backs and I was going crazy until Matthew came up with this solution. Ultimately, we’d rather have people playing with the fronts of the cards rather than the backs. But, I suppose if they finally exhaust themselves with the fronts, we’ve given them another something to do.
Because we like to keep our subscribers busy, and out of trouble.
As I imagine the kind of world Alden and Kato will inhabit when they find themselves in their mid-thirties, I look around me for harbingers of what is to come. The news is full of seemingly intractable problems with long-term repercussions. There is war, recession, and disaster. The people who we call upon to lead the efforts toward finding solutions are busy fighting amongst themselves.
But among the gloomy signs, we saw a beam of hope and light the other day. Strolling through Sam’s Club in search of discount items in extraordinary quantities, we could not help but be inspired by the ingenuity and sheer gall of the person who dreamed up this product, a combination of wholesome factors that is sure to rescue the coming generations from the ills of its predecessors.
How can we frown in a world with so much to offer? Thank you, Jimmy Dean, for delivering redemption on a stick.
I was driving out of Chestertown last Tuesday night on my way to Philadelphia, where I was to spend the next three days in meetings. The sun had just set, but there was still a bit of light in the sky. All of a sudden, a deer ran right across the road in front of my car, barely missing my bumper. I was feeling relieved when another deer appeared in the headlights. This time, I was not so lucky.
While I was waiting for the police to come, quite a few people stopped to chat. Several of them wanted to shoot the deer, which was not killed by the impact. Others wanted to claim the deer (after checking to make sure that I didn’t want it for myself). It was an exciting, social twenty minutes there by the side of the road. One fellow ended up shooting the deer with a gun he must have been carrying in his car. Another seemed disappointed to have missed the opportunity; he had sent his wife to fetch his gun from the house, but was foiled by the delay.
The guy at the body shop, where we took the car for an estimate, told us that we were lucky that some deer fur was stuck in the bumper. Apparently, this makes for a clearer case for the insurance adjuster.
All of this is a long-winded way of saying that we’re currently without wheels. And so for the time being, Alden is picking up the slack.
She drove us all to the grocery store the other day, in a snowstorm, to boot.
Perhaps we’re foolish to put so much faith in someone so young and small, but she drives with a steely purposefulness.
I think we’re in good hands.
Yesterday, we moved back from Bob and Seiko’s house and are once again full-time barn dwellers.
Even without the car, we were able to make the two-block migration without too much trouble.
It’s good to be home again, now a square family instead of a triangular one (with apologies to the animals for being excluded from this calculation).
Kato continues to be ever more alert, though he still does seem to be a champion sleeper. We like both aspects of the little man, and are still inclined to keep him.
These past two and a half weeks have been all about getting to know one another. Though Alden has been generally uninterested in the whole process, she also hasn’t been unwelcoming or unwilling. Mostly she regards Kato as, say, a new loaf of bread, or a rock we have chosen to bring in from outside, that for some reason we keep reminding her to treat “gently” (which, apparently, means patting softly on the head while saying “gentle. GENTLE.“. She occasionally gives us status updates (”Baby CRYing,” and “Baby SLEEPing”) but since that’s pretty much all he does these days, she doesn’t have much to say about him.
The other day, she put on his little carrier (the infamous Snugli, which has been crucial not just on outings, but around the house – during Alden’s tenure as a wee thing, it was invaluable at book shows as well) and requested that she be allowed to carry him. Showing unusual restraint, Matthew suggested Alden hold Kato in the comfortable lounger instead.
This was the first time that she had been able to get a good look at her little brother. She noticed, for instance, that Kato has a head:
And a nose:
Just like she does!
He is human, after all! This was cause for celebration. A high five, perhaps?
Unfortunately, the little stinker left her hanging. The kid obviously has a lot to learn. We can be sure that Alden will be there, bossing him along every step of the way.
Let’s start with what this week’s auction isn’t: a portrait of Elvis Aaron Presley, King of Rock and Roll.
To be clear: this is a portrait of an Elvis impersonator, and a pretty terrible one at that. To be even clearer: this is a portrait of a terrible Elvis impersonator, not a terrible portrait of an Elvis impersonator. The portrait is at least passable, but the Elvis impersonator is unarguably awful.
As further disclaimer, this image is not rendered on velvet, though Robbi admits that it would be a lot more badass if it were.
You know you want to give this illustration to your mom for Valentines Day. She loves Elvis (and Elvis impersonators), even if she won’t admit it. So go ahead and start the bidding.
Those of you who were part of last Monday’s frenzied bidding war for Robbi’s illustration of Williamstown should know that the final countdown is upon us. In a mere five hours and 34 minutes one of you will be the lucky owner of an oddly-shaped, but nonetheless lovable, piece of Williams lore. Here it is again, in case you missed it the first time (click on the image to enlarge).
The comparing has already begun. Poor Kato. Or, maybe, poor Alden. It seems to be the way of things that once there is “the other” it’s almost impossible not to compare it to “one”. So far, there’s been a lot of “Wow, he’s so much stronger than Alden was!” or “Her head was way bigger than his is” or “I think he pees a lot more than she did” etc etc etc. Being the third child, I suffered my share of comparisons, but fortunately, people pretty quickly figured out I bore very little resemblance to my sister (way smart) or my brother (way cool). I guess when you’re just a small unfinished blob, it’s harder to convince people that you’re your own person.
One of the most common observations is that Kato looks “more Asian” than Alden. I vaguely remembered the days before Alden’s nest-head was quite so carefully cultivated, and decided to look back at some old photos from the days just after she was born. Can you believe it? It looks like these two were separated at birth! And were both Chinese! I’m sure 10 years from now when they ask who each of these is a picture of, I will have no idea.
Alden is on the left, Kato on the right.
We also noticed that Kato bears a striking resemblance to Victor Garber, the guy who played the dad on Alias (among other, more praiseworthy things).
Kato on the left, Victor Garber on the right.
I admit, we had to do a little ear readjusting for Kato’s photo.
Though I consider Mr. Garber a handsome guy, in that silver fox-y sort of way, I worry a little about the awkward stage that it looks Kato is doomed for (here is Mr. Garber in 1973):
It looks like he’ll be taking Alden’s hairstyle to the next level. And really, it’s one thing to assert your independence with a unique look, but I sure hope that he’ll pass on the red suspenders and eye makeup.
