Mint tea, morning sun

by | Aug 7, 2012 | Inspiration, News & Events

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As long as the weather permits, I think having a cup of mint tea in the morning sun on my deck will be a regular ritual. It’s a good time to make sure I’m as unwound as can be before I hit my workroom and start winding the other way.

August, I’ll admit, is sort of my month to let my brain flatline work-wise after an intense summer of work preparing for and going to shows (although, I have plenty to do.. sorry if you still haven’t gotten my email response! I’m slowly but surely making my way back in my inbox). I’ve been trying to do a lot of reading & thinking & just sitting still.. Gotta stay balanced, stay in the now, keep it fresh for new ideas, keep believing, etc.. Plus keep up with work stuff at the same time. I’ll be restocking all of my retailers in the coming week or so — I’m printing up a whole new batch of cards & prints this week. Also finishing up a few commissions inspired by previous works that I’ve sold. My “Shelter Each Other” design will be coming out soon as part of a series of tote bags in Germany/ Europe through Bizarr Verlag, who also licensed my works for a series of postcards. More info on that when I’ve got it (I’ll have some for sale too). Til next time..

Caboose Thoughts (by Carl Sandburg)

by | Aug 6, 2012 | Inspiration

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Hipstamatic iphone pic on Hwy 45, Rushville, MO, 2010.

Caboose Thoughts
by Carl Sandburg

It’s going to come out all right—do you know?
The sun, the birds, the grass—they know.
They get along—and we’ll get along.

Some days will be rainy and you will sit waiting
And the letter you wait for won’t come,
And I will sit watching the sky tear off gray and gray
And the letter I wait for won’t come.

There will be ac-ci-dents.
I know ac-ci-dents are coming.
Smash-ups, signals wrong, washouts, trestles rotten,
Red and yellow ac-ci-dents.
But somehow and somewhere the end of the run
The train gets put together again
And the caboose and the green tail lights
Fade down the right of way like a new white hope.

I never heard a mockingbird in Kentucky
Spilling its heart in the morning.

I never saw the snow on Chimborazo.
It’s a high white Mexican hat, I hear.

I never had supper with Abe Lincoln.
Nor a dish of soup with Jim Hill.

But I’ve been around.
I know some of the boys here who can go a little.
I know girls good for a burst of speed any time.

I heard Williams and Walker
Before Walker died in the bughouse.

I knew a mandolin player
Working in a barber shop in an Indiana town,
And he thought he had a million dollars.

I knew a hotel girl in Des Moines.
She had eyes; I saw her and said to myself
The sun rises and the sun sets in her eyes.
I was her steady and her heart went pit-a-pat.
We took away the money for a prize waltz at a
Brotherhood dance.
She had eyes; she was safe as the bridge over the
Mississippi at Burlington; I married her.

Last summer we took the cushions going west.
Pike’s Peak is a big old stone, believe me.
It’s fastened down; something you can count on.

It’s going to come out all right—do you know?
The sun, the birds, the grass—they know.
They get along—and we’ll get along.

Read Across Lawrence Cut Paper Workshop for Kids

by | Aug 5, 2012 | News & Events

From the Lawrence Public Library website:
Saturday, September 1st, 1:30 – 2:30 PM in the Library Auditorium, for ages 8 & up.
Get crafty with local cut-paper artist Angie Pickman in an art workshop inspired by The Cabinet of Wonders cover art by David Frankland. The Cabinet of Wonders by Marie Rutkoski is the Read Across Lawrence for Kids selection. Registration Requested.