September 30th, 2013
They’re here! At long last, the Red Deck of the Tacoma Playing Cards is finished, printed and delivered.
(You’ll have to excuse my cheesy phone photos—I was just too excited to dig out the fancy camera.)
It’s so great to see the finished product, and how well everyone’s artwork reproduced at playing-card size. But you can also see the originals—if you’re local, stop by the big launch party this Friday, October 4 in downtown Tacoma. If not, you can find all the originals for sale on the Tacoma Makes website.
I illustrated the Queens again—and in the process, saw some secret pockets of Tacoma I’d never visited before.
I also got to revisit some old favorites,
get to know some beloved institutions,
and even discover hidden corners of old haunts.
But best of all is the feeling of seeing both decks together. Maybe now I’ll finally learn how to play Bridge…
June 28th, 2013
More than a thousand towns and cities in the U.S. are lucky enough to have had a Carnegie Library under their belt, and Tacoma is no exception. Today, our Carnegie Library is a wing of the expanded main campus of the Tacoma Public Library—and the rotunda now houses the fabulous Northwest Room, the ultimate resource for Tacoma and Northwest history. It’s a gorgeous space, and beloved in these here parts. So I figured it would be a perfect addition to the Red Deck of the Tacoma Playing Cards.
I didn’t think they’d take kindly to me breaking out the watercolors in a room full of rare books, but I was at least able to do the line drawing on-site. (‘Scuse the wobbly iPhone photo.) And that’s always a tricky prospect for me—I always do as much drawing from life possible, but I’d much rather disappear into the woodwork while doing so. My drawings are always better when I can concentrate uninterrupted. The trouble is, the only place I can consistently sketch in public without anyone noticing me is New York. Here in Tacoma—where I run into someone I know at least once a day—it’s a different story.
In the Northwest Room there was a table right in front of me, which would have made me far less conspicuous while sketching. But in order to get the point of view I wanted, I had to stand dead-center in an aisle, right in the middle of the room. Yet not once in the hour-plus I stood there, sticking out like a sore thumb and obviously not doing what people normally do in there, did anyone bother me—or ask me what the heck I was doing, or make eye contact, or even register my existence.
I think I just found my new favorite sketching spot.