Blog
August 20th, 2013
It’s the time of year where our kitchen is a lot hotter—and the days much longer—than anything summer might throw at us naturally.
The Tailor and I have been up late with the dilly beans,
out at dawn at the Blueberry Park,
and across the mountains to get peaches right off the tree.
And then everything has got to get washed and sliced—
—and packed into jars—as quickly as possible. It’s the best way we know how to make the fleeting summer last.
July 7th, 2013
I just finished decking out Dandelion Wishes with new handmade shop decorations for summer! I took down the robin’s eggs, daffodils and rain clouds of the spring window dressing, and traded them for ice cream cones, sea stars, sunglasses and a whole flock of wheeling seagulls. So if you’re local, swoop on down and check them out!
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.
June 23rd, 2013
I’m usually terrible about attending organized sketch crawls, but today I made an extra effort and joined the local Urban Sketchers group up north in Edmonds, WA. My friend Gabi Campanario (who founded the group) was there, and while most of the rest of the group camped out to sketch around the downtown core, we set out for the shoreline. There, Gabi let me in on the best sketching secret ever: that the best place to be was under the ferry landing.
You can only walk under there (without waders) when the tide is lower than normal; today we had a boatload of sheer dumb luck, as it happened to be an exceptionally extreme spring tide. Today was not only a full moon, but a so-called “supermoon,” where the moon is the closest to Earth that it will be for the next year. We arrived on the scene about an hour before low tide, and found the place absolutely teeming with marine life.
I’ve seen tide pools before, but nothing like this. There were literally hundreds of sea stars, crabs, anemones and clams in lurid colors. And I got to make a few discoveries—like just how bizarre an anemone looks when it’s completely exposed and left hanging from a rock like a gob of soupy ABC gum. Or that if you stand in place long enough, sooner or later a clam will squirt a jet of water at you from two feet away, and hit you with uncanny accuracy.
The place was also teeming with beachcombers, who provided a good exercise in speed-sketching an ever-changing crowd (as if the seriously challenging perspective of all those pilings weren’t enough…). Gabi, on the other hand, was super easy to draw: he plonked himself down on a rock to paint, and became almost as motionless as the sea stars clinging to his perch.
So thanks, Gabi, for a great sketch outing today. And a big shout-out to the moon, for providing the perfect opportunity!
June 21st, 2013
Okay. Now that Old Town Dock is officially open, I feel like I can finally give away some juicy details. Here are all 24 medallions (portholes?) in my new public art piece, Droplets. Since not everyone reading this post is local to Tacoma, I won’t go into great detail over every image. But to give you some context, Old Town Dock boasts one of the best vantage points in the South Sound, with beautiful views of land, city and sea in every direction. That’s what first drew me to the site: I wanted the chance to encourage people to look all around them, because there was something to see everywhere you look.
But when I started researching the history of the place, I was even more struck by how much had happened in Old Town over the years—and how much was still going on, every day. Because of its prominence in so many lives and livelihoods, Old Town Dock has stood witness to a staggering number of true stories since it was built in 1873. Family histories, booming industries, important events, Native traditions, beginnings, endings, drastic changes, slow growth, celebrations, tragedies, and a thousand everyday narratives—the stories we tell are as commonplace as raindrops, yet as precious as the water that defines and sustains Tacoma as a city.
Droplets references just a handful of these stories, yet hopefully hints at the diversity and richness inherent in our public spaces.
Going from a painted picture to a tangible, finished object was nearly a two-year process, and I was only one small piece of the puzzle.
And the 24 medallions barely hint at the number of drawings I did along the way. Back when I was a finalist for the commission, I needed to demonstrate my understanding of the space, and convey how I wanted the artwork to function to the selection committee. In this area, pictures really were worth a thousand words apiece; time after time, sketching out what I meant was infinitely more effective than trying to explain it in words.
As I was working on my presentation, all this drawing and imagining every angle gave me a little epiphany. I realized that while the view from the site was spectacular, the Dock itself was part of the view, too, depending on where you stood. Since Old Town Dock is a gateway between land and sea, I wanted to engage the folks who’d be arriving from the water, as well. So I presented this drawing—and while some other things have changed along the way, the reality of this particular piece is almost exactly as it appears in this sketch.
Anyway, back to the nuts and bolts. As you’re well aware, I’m an illustrator—I work in paint and pixels, not industrial components. I didn’t have the skills or tools to make outdoor pieces out of durable materials (in public art, durable materials include metal, glass, tile, stone, brick, and other permanent industrial media; a mural, for instance, is not considered “durable”). So I turned my designs over to the good folks at Winsor Fireform, a fabricator just down the road in Olympia, and they reproduced each Droplet as a small porcelain enamel disc.
Porcelain enamel is the most durable sign medium available. Each piece is made by reproducing the image in pigmented powdered glass onto a steel base. Then the piece is fired at kiln temperatures to fuse the glass to the steel, creating a permanent, totally nonreactive surface.
Porcelain enamel won’t fade in UV light, won’t react to water or salt, and is resistant to dirt and graffiti. That makes it ideal for public art, and the perfect medium for the harsh marine conditions at Old Town Dock.
Now all that was left was to install the rounds. I came armed with my scale drawing—and lots and lots of warm clothing for a long shift in the early morning rain.
Basically, I stood and pointed, and Pat routered out 24 perfectly positioned circles.
Then he inlaid each disc, affixing them to the wood with some seriously heavy-duty marine sealant, and Bob’s your uncle. Actually, it wasn’t always that easy; some of the rounds required some acrobatic feats to install. Just passing him tape measures and things gave me vertigo sometimes—but at least he didn’t have to drill while standing in a choppy rowboat (which was plan B, if hanging off the edge didn’t work).
Twenty-four hours later, the adhesive was fully cured, and I could call it done.
The day we installed, nothing on the Dock was completely finished—benches and planters were still piled up at random, and I wasn’t entirely certain that the final placement would match my scale drawing.
But now it sort of feels like the artwork has always been there—
and maybe you just never noticed it before.
I love being there to witness whenever a Droplet catches someone’s eye, and they stop whatever they’re doing to look more closely.
And just maybe that moment of noticing will lead to the words, “Let me tell you a story…”
June 19th, 2013
It’s a little hard to believe that Old Town Dock is finally open, and up-and-running for good.
Photo by Naomi Strom-Avila
Technically, we had a little ribbon-cutting and “soft opening” (in which Deputy Mayor Campbell hilariously appeared to be attacking me with the giant ceremonial scissors—oh, heck yes, we used giant ceremonial scissors!)—
—but Sunday was the big party for everybody.
The Dock is still technically a work in progress, as Phase II of the project (including a restroom and permanent wayfinding signage) won’t be completed until late fall. So for the next few months we’ve got snazzy banners up instead—big thanks to the City and Metro Parks for letting me be a total control freak and design the banners and signage.
And even more big thanks to Jessica, who whipped up these fabulous fluorescent letterpress coasters to give out at the event. It was fun to see a hundred people walking around carrying neon octopi with them.
Photos by Walter Smith
And even though I had to speak right after our lovely Mayor (left), having the audience packed with hollering friends made me forget how nervous I was. Thanks, guys.
The best part, though, was the people-watching. I can’t tell you how good it feels to see people responding to and interacting with your own artwork—
—and looking excited to do so.
In the two months since we installed the work, I’ve already lost count of the number of people (including the construction guys!) who have told me their own memories about Old Town Dock. Knowing that my little illustrations are triggering these stories is an incredible feeling.
I especially love catching folks in quiet moments, just exploring the Dock and discovering each Droplet for themselves.
Photo by Sheree Trefry
It’s all I can do not to run up to total strangers and say, “I made that!”
Thank you to everyone to came to the dedication on Sunday; to everyone who’s spent a lunch hour or coffee break counting medallions (Ric, I’m looking at you; a bucket of gold stars for finding all 24 first!); to everyone who’s got a story to share about Old Town Dock. I’m still listening.
June 13th, 2013
See you this Sunday at Old Town Dock!
June 4th, 2013
Public art is a funny thing. If I learned anything from my last public art project, it was that time moves differently in the public art realm. It takes so long for a project to go from blueprint to grand opening that the artwork can’t be considered “done” until months or sometimes years after the artist finishes the design. In this case, I’ve been sitting on this one for quite some time—so I’m pleased as punch that I can finally reveal a glimpse or two!
This is just one part of my new piece, Droplets, which is now a permanent part of the newly-restored Old Town Dock in Tacoma. Originally built in 1873, Old Town Dock is one of the city’s oldest properties, and was an important part of Tacoma’s shipping history. It served as a public walkway until 2008, just before I moved to town, when it was closed to the public due to structural concerns.
This is how the Dock looked two years ago, when I first toured the site as a finalist for the public art commission. The place was a mess, with rotting planks, makeshift barriers and caution tape roping off unstable (or even missing!) sections of the pier, and about forty frillion dead crabs, seashell fragments, and other seafood snacks the gulls would drop on the wood. You couldn’t walk a single step without hearing/feeling a disconcerting crunch underfoot.
And here she is today, all shiny and new again. The City and Metro Parks Tacoma split the job of refurbishing the pier on its original footprint, adding benches and lampposts, and turning the place into a city park. And thanks to the One Percent for Art program, the project included funds for a public art commission.
The artwork comes with a hitch, though: you have to find it first.
I’ll be sharing more about the project in the coming days, but I want to wait until after the public unveiling to do so. In the meantime, if you’re in the area, the Dock is actually open to the public already (we had a “soft opening” and ribbon-cutting a couple of weeks ago). But I’d recommend the main event, which is a week from Sunday (bring your dad!). Here’s the skinny:
Dad’s Day at Old Town Dock
Grand Reopening & Dedication of Public Artwork
Featuring music by Pearl Django
Sunday, June 16, 2013
11 am to 1 pm, free!
Ruston Way at McCarver Street, Tacoma, WA
Be there or be … er … round?
May 17th, 2013
We’ve had just about the most perfect spring here this year—with weather so unseasonably sunny, for weeks on end, that it simply would be criminal not to get outside for every second one can. On days like this, work can wait awhile—and the camera moves to the front burner. When the sun is shining here, a perfect moment is never hard to find.
May 7th, 2013
If you’ve read about the squash in our attic, our crazy food-shopping habits, and my illustrated political rants—you probably already know that the Tailor and I are freakishly into sustainability. So you can imagine how happy I was when our lovely new local food co-op asked me to design a reusable water bottle for them. I’m honored to be the first Tacoma artist in what we hope will become a series of limited-edition artist-designed bottles.
What I love most about this is that the bottles are manufactured by the kind folks at Liberty Bottle Works—right across the mountains in Yakima, WA. Thus far, at least, Liberty is the only U.S. manufacturer of metal water bottles. So being able to support an industry right in my own state was a big deal for me.
The hitch is that there are only 200 of these—once they’re gone, that’s it. So visit the Tacoma Food Coop, grab your bottle and fill ‘er up.