As anyone who’s tried to set down a cup of coffee or take a seat at our house knows, we can’t control our paper. Newsprint, catalogs, notepads, empty sticker backing—it covers all our surfaces uniformly, like dust on a construction site. But when you feel like drawing, as we are known to, it’s pretty handy.
Jo and I started a sketchbook in March that we get out when we need to get out of Sarah’s/Mom’s hair. Johanna’s a natural. Her preferred drawing implement is the gluestick, which as a long-time collagist makes me proud.
Below are a few of our latest pages. While I do most of the detail work, Jo selects the media, tears things, adds glue liberally (even when we’re not gluing), and controls the composition by frequently reorienting the page. While we are abstract artists by and large, figurative elements creep in, especially around dinner time.
Beset by a spring project blitz, not to mention Somali pirates, I’m feeling short on time for the non-essential. Before the first dispatch from an over-taxed April, I gotta salute Jamie and Craig, headed to Nationals after winning the FOOSFIRE All-Agency Foosball Tournament this weekend and lighting up their own (pickin’) party the same night. You are heroes to all beer-powered sports enthusiasts.
Sounds from around the home/office:
>> J Dilla – Body Movin’: This deceased DJ blends more effervescent soundscapes than DJ Shadow. Stevie D has been onto Dilla for years. Where’ve I been?
>> The Kinks – Brainwashed: An exquisite diss and one of those rare times where horns totally work for me. Wait for the break down at 1:30.
>> R.E.M – Letter Never Sent: A gem cassette copy of Reckoning has me questioning whether, before now, I actually heard the band. The “rich, deeply textured voice” of Michael Stipe (mentioned here in passing) is, like, the fourth best thing about this song.
>> John Vanderslice – Fetal Horse: Where to for a weekend getaway? You got it: Omaha. The Vanderslice/Mountain Goats show on 5/30 was the impetus for the trip, but we really just needed some action on the calendar. I’m past my crecendo of appreciation for either act—but in a new city, in the right club, when yer date’s a fan too, it could be a ball.
>> Yoko Ono — Why: I gladly put up with five minutes of Yoko’s keening for 45 seconds of John’s guitar freakout.
>> If you forged your sense of official mistrust 20 years ago, then here’s what I want you all to do for me.