Flotsam and Jetsam*

Today, in addition to using my daydream time at work to think about Batman (I have no idea why. Oh, wait. Yes, I do: Batman is awesome and should definitely be thought about at work.), I also thought about what kind of valentines I might like to send out this year. Last year I sent some reproduction vintage valentines by Laughing Elephant--they can do no wrong in my eyes--but this year I think I'd like to try my hand at making cards. I don't know whether it's the little quirks of the maker, the personal touches added to delight the one who receives the gift, or the mistakes that are often apparent in the item's construction, but the evidence of one person's craftsmanship always makes handmade items all the more dear.


Hmm. It sounds like I'm trying to undersell the project while also ramping up the very special indeed factor--as in: It might be crap, but consider yourself very special indeed to get something I made. Not my intention, I assure you. I mean, I do consider you all very special and more, more, more than worthy of any small item I might concoct. I just meant...nevermind.


Anyway, after going from Batman to waxing nostalgic for the home made & hand made, I was left thinking about a few things from the past that seem weird and wonderful in their own imperfect ways. So, I decided a project retrospective will occupy my blog time for the next few days. If you're easily bored by me being a little braggy and then immediately becoming appalled once I realize I've been braggy, you might want to spend the next four or five days somewhere else.  Although, honestly, you should be used to that by now.


The following are pictures I drew on note cards and then sent to Catherine. Inspiration came from my copy of the Treasury of Animal Illustrations from Eighteenth-Century Sources. It's a great book.

Kind of creepy, right? First, what else do you expect? And second, have you ever looked at a book of 18th century animal illustrations? They're almost all creepy. Still, I'm going to hazard a guess that Catherine loved them anyway because she knew that I sat at the coffee table in my apartment to draw and shade and compose some ridiculous message. Besides, she sent me this little gem:


OK, now you know we make awfully inappropriate jokes
about the French Revolution. Again, what did you expect?

And from Monika: a fluffy little kookaburra, deep in contemplation.

*Did you think I was going to write something about The Little Mermaid? Sorry to disappoint. Believe me, it'll come up sooner or later...probably sooner.