Author: Chandler
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Almost ready
At the Wayzgoose on Saturday (thanks to the hundreds of folks who showed up!), Jessica and I had a little teaser for the next Dead Feminist print set up at our table—I figured it wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t also share it online. I’m not going to say much, so as not to spoil…
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Attack of the ‘Goose
Jessica and I are waist-deep in the new Dead Feminist print (look for it here next week), so I’m just popping in to wave hello—and to warn you, in badly-dubbed English, about the giant goose climbing the Space Needle. Just kidding … but they will be sending in the steamrollers. This Saturday, in the Needle’s…
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Cancelled trips
Since I posted this drawing and some others this summer, people have been asking me what’s with the stamps in my sketchbook. I guess the short answer is that each one is a little piece of personal tradition. But you know I don’t really do short answers. The long one, then. I grew up in…
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Just peachy
Earlier this month, my best friend Elizabeth flew in for a visit. Each time she’s come to town I’ve taken her to see a different part of the state—and since we’re in the middle of fruit season, this time we headed for the Yakima Valley. At this time of year, the roadsides are piled high…
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Flock
I’ve been sitting on this post for months now—it’s just that after spending so much time hunched over this project, I needed some time off from even thinking about it. But now I’m ready to talk birds again. From left: Cedar Waxwing; Steller’s Jay; American Avocet; Purple Martin; Tufted Puffin Eighteen months, twenty-five birds, six…
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Anniversary
My goodness, how time flies. As of this moment, I’ve been a Tacoman for exactly two years. Twenty-four months. Seven hundred thirty days. Seventeen thousand five hundred twenty hours. And counting. I’m hoping for several million more, because I’ve loved every one—thanks to you T-town folks. Guys, you’re awesome. And generous, to boot—I think I…
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Memento mori
One of the things I used to do with Bampa is visit the colonial graveyards tucked away in every corner of New England. On this trip I only had time to visit a couple, so I picked my two favorites: the Old York Burial Ground in York, Maine; and the Granary Burying Ground in Boston.…
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Wicked good day
At the end of a whirlwind trip that still hadn’t quite sunk in, I wanted a long, solo walk to clear my head before my flight home. So I got on the 8:57 Downeaster to Boston, and spent the remaining four hours before I had to get to the airport walking a familiar radius of…
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Sometimes, vacations take you.
All this talk of stolen vacations, and all I had to do was wait another week. Well, maybe not for a vacation, per se, but certainly a change of scenery. My mother called to let me know that my grandfather, who lived in Exeter, NH, was entering hospice care. Before I knew it, I was…
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Volcano vacation
The second part of my little stolen holiday was a little more ambitious: a four-night camping trip with the Tailor in southern Oregon. It was just what the doctor ordered—the perfect prescription for recharging the soul. We camped in the Rogue River National Forest, in a grove of hemlocks and blooming dogwoods, just downstream from…