All Creatures Great and Small, Redux

 
 

This has felt like an exceptionally long winter. It seems that way for most people? But a bright spot has been the new season of All Creatures Great and Small. The second the opening credits start, every bit of stress melts away and for 45 minutes I can escape into a story of first rate fry ups, veterinary conundrums and a world that while not perfect, feels decidedly kind and hopeful.

So I did a bit of fan art last year, and couldn’t resist another go at this season. Maybe I’ll do a bit more. Looking at you, Tricky Woo.

Inkpen

 
sketchbook collage illustration
 

I’m not a genealogist, but I do love a good mystery, so every once in awhile I go through family history websites, trying to track down a few relatives. While scrolling through generations the other day, I stumbled on a distant relation with the surname, “Inkpen.” And instantly I started thinking of all sorts of stories for Inkpen, imagining his quirks (cowlicks), his qualities (punctuality) and his shortcomings (leaving almost empty bottles of milk in the icebox). He eats a cheese and pickle sandwich for lunch every day, once received a red ribbon at the county fair for his parsnips and still secretly pines after the trapeze artist who visited town thirty years ago.

And then there’s the matter of that beetle. The beetle the size of a cow, that rose up out of the barley field one night. Inkpen regrets that he did not have his camera with him that evening. Had he been in possession of said camera, he might have gone on to tour the country giving talks about giant insects, rather than typesetting agricultural advertisements.

And maybe Inkpen would have crossed paths with that trapeze artist again. Maybe.

In Dublin's Fair City

 
 

I’ve been wanting to do a series of prints based on Irish songs for awhile and finally finished the first this week. The original plan had been to screenprint this (I still might at some point) but for now it’ll be a digital print available next week.

The first time I heard “Molly Malone” was in grade school, when a folk group came to perform. The song was catchy, but I became progressively more and more worried with each passing verse as Molly’s fate was slowly revealed. I distinctly remember thinking that the happy go lucky tune couldn’t possibly result in something bad happening to its heroine, so image my seven year old horror when I realized Molly doesn’t make it.

It was a very long time before I could manage that song again. Luckily, I like it much better as an adult.

Croquet Conundrums

 
 

I’ve been watching Frankie Drake lately because it’s fun and fluffy and #januaryblerghjanuary. The end result is all I want to do now is draw 1920’s costumes. A few years back, I used to participate in vintage reenactment events. Think LARP-ing, but for history nerds. I sewed most of my dresses, learned to enjoy a good G&T and developed passable swing dancing skills.

But the one thing I could never manage was croquet.

It wasn’t for want of trying. It seemed de rigeur for anyone attempting to time travel to the ‘20’s. But no matter what I did, I could not manage to get that blasted wooden ball through even the first wicket. The day I finally admitted defeat was liberating (see also: driving stick shift and making pancakes). So no more croquet for me, not then, not now, not never.

Unless I’m drawing the wretched sport. Then, I’ll make a concession.

 
 

The More Things Change...

 
 

Over the holidays, I thought I’d rearrange a few things in my bedroom. And next thing I knew, that simple task had morphed into a terrifying, post-modern version of If You Give A Mouse A Cookie, as I sorted magazines, bagged goods to donate and cleaned out the boxes of mementos I’ve had since junior high.

I ran across a sketchbook from high school in that box. 99.9% of it makes me wince, which I suspect is a good thing. Some of it made me choke up, like the drawing of my grandmother doing dishes. And some sketches made me laugh, particularly the drawings that included teen Abbie’s numerous self-critiques: “Good, but this angle is wrong” and “This doesn’t really look like my sister, so I need to practice more and do better.”

Occasionally I can see things that will spill over into the work I do today: historical costumes, a love of detail, a fascination with people. So when I was thinking of something to warmup with today, I thought I’d have a shot at redrawing something in that teen sketchbook, in my style now.

And maybe in the year 2045, when we’re all traveling about with jetpacks, I’ll have a shot at that illustration, again.

 
 

No clue what is going on with that kid in the tophat. No idea. Nope.

Old and New

 
 

Some old things, some new things:

* The block print ornaments I made before the holidays, inspired by Norwegian folk costumes. So much of what I do involves pixels, so the physicality of carving, inking and printing a block is a much appreciated change of pace. More of that in 2022, yes, please.

* I’m a quarter of the way through Catching Breath, a fascinating read about the science and history of tuberculosis. Who would have thought bacterium could give you a page-turner.

* I finally finished the Alabama Chanin skirt I started back in 2019. It’s a tremendous amount of work that goes into one of these garments, but I loved making this and can’t recommend this pattern and technique book enough.