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harbourside view

“Harbourside View” by Emmeline Simpson

bristol dockyardSince Luke and I arrived in Bristol, we’ve come to a surprising realization: here, in this city where we lived for eight and two years respectively, we feel equally like tourists as we do locals. It’s strange, but last night as we tramped down familiar sidewalks in the rain, even passing a former apartment building, we felt like our feet knew intuitively where to go even while we felt totally out of place. It’s a bit like being in a dream where everything is familiar, but something you can’t quite put your finger on is off.

It could very well have been the rain, the night and our travel fatigue. Sure enough, the sun came out this morning and, with it, those old fond feelings of belonging to a city where we lived happily just two years ago. While Luke worked, I spent the morning retracing our old footsteps: Queen’s Square, the Park Street shops and cafes, Brandon Hill park with its views of the city, Clifton Village with its Georgian architecture and posh gastro pubs. I made a point to duck into a favorite cafe any time I felt peckish, and let me tell you, we have a favorite for just about every neighborhood.

queens square bristol

Queen Charlotte Square, Bristol

brandon hill bristol

Capot Tower at Brandon Hill

brandon hill view

View of Bristol from Brandon Hill

At one point, I popped into the shop at the Bristol Museum and Art Gallery to look for postcards. While I was browsing, my eye was drawn to a section of merchandise by local artists. I’d seen these artists before and, in fact, we own a couple small prints by two of them. What got me excited, though, was that, looking more closely, I realized that a couple of the artists, including one whose print I own, do linocut. All this time I’d been carrying around lovely canvas bag with a print of Bristol by Melanie Wickham, often using it to carry around my own linocut supplies, and I’d never realized it was a linoleum print itself.

bristol print

Bristol by Melanie Wickham

A lot can be said about this: Like, how a place never really leaves you even after you leave it. Like how, doesn’t it just show that I must always have been drawn to linocut before I even knew what it was or that I’d one day try my hand at it? And like, how I now understand that what was missing from Bristol in the first twenty-four hours of our visit when everything felt so strange and out of place was a link connecting the us we are today with the us we were in Bristol two years ago.

bridge, whitebeams, peregrin

“Bridge, Whitebeams, Oaks and Peregrin” by Melanie Wickham

oyster_catchers

“Oyster Catchers” by Ian Phillips, another Bristol linocut relief artist.

Needless to say, when I look ahead at these next five days I see a lot of linocut in my future.

IMG_1842Linocut in progresslinocut inkingIMG_1577You may remember, I discovered linocut printmaking on Etsy a couple months ago and felt an instant pull to try my hand at it. What do I love about linocut? How to explain…

It’s physical. As in sore shoulders from keeping even pressure and a precise trajectory on the cutter. Physical, as in nicked fingers and thumbs when you’re first testing the limits of the cutter. Physical, as in aching neck from hunching over your projects. Hours pass.

It’s involved, a multi-step process. Drawing or designing your art, either directly onto the tile or in photoshop. Transferring the mirror image of your design onto the tile using graphite paper. Carving. Inking. Printing. Printing again.

Copies! You can print more than one.

Inking. As you can see in the pictures, it’s best to roll the ink out onto a nonporous surface. My glass Ikea table works nicely. It’s like being a kid again and painting on the furniture, only this time it’s allowed. Because it washed right off.

It has texture. I’m no artist, haven’t taken an art class since middle school, so I don’t have the right terminology to describe what I love about the look and feel of linocut. But texture comes to mind. The ink reveals the topography of the artist’s process. It’s no coincidence, I’m sure, that birds, nature and landscapes are popular motifs in linocut. The carving tools allow the natural textures and angles to shine through.

Dig into it. There’s something cathartic about eliminating negative space. Digging into the soft linoleum, cutting it away. It’s a picker’s dream.

Have you tried your hand at linocut before? Or another kind of printmaking? I’m enthralled by the entire genre. This video was a major source of inspiration. This one, too, in case you’re in a video-watching mood today.

It wasn’t all that long ago we were talking about creating our perfect bookcases. So I was delighted to hear about this new book from LIttle Brown & Co., The Ideal Bookshelf. Have you read it yet? Artist Jane Mount teamed up with editor Thesslay La Force to create what looks like the perfect coffee table book, featuring 100 leading cultural figures’s ideal bookshelves. Some of the people they interviewed include Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Junot Diaz, Patti Smith, David Sedaris, Dave Eggers and Rosanne Cash — some of my favorites!

As cool as the book sounds, what I love possibly more than reading about other peoples’ bookshelves, is the thought of commissioning Jane Mount to draw my own ideal bookshelf… which you can do(!!).

Wouldn’t that make the most lovely, personalized Christmas present for you book-obsessed friend or loved one. Or, for yourself! You can choose from a painting of 7, 10, 15 or 20 books. Just for fun, if you had to choose just 7 books that represent you, which ones would you choose?

Mine would be Anna Karenina, Watership Down, Edward Abbey’s Desert Solitaire, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Jane Austen’s Persuasian, The Complete Stories of Flannery O’Connor, and Cloud Atlas.

My friend had her sweet baby over the weekend (the one from the zombie baby shower). Along with a meal, I’d love to take over a children’s book that she and baby will cherish. There’s just one problem. My friend is not your typical parent. She and her partner are somewhat… alternative: both mommy and daddy are heavily tattooed, they love Halloween, horror movies and all things paranormal. I have no doubt they’ll be loving, nurturing parents, teaching their daughter right from wrong and all that jazz, I just don’t think they’ll do it in a conventional way. And more power to them!

But I got to thinking, there must be tons of other Generation X parents out there struggling to find children’s books that appeal to their aesthetic and values. Children’s books explaining tattoos, for example. Even on the internet it was slim pickings. And the ones I did find were for 7 yrs and up. What about the little ones? I guess it’ll have to be Pete the Cat and The Very Hungry Caterpillar for the first few years. When she grows out of those, these might entertain her (I know they’ll entertain my friend!):

Tony DiTerlizzi is the celebrated illustrator behind The Spiderwick Chronicles. In The Spider and the Fly he takes the famous poem by Victorian poet, Mary Howitt, and brings it to life with stunning and creepy illustrations. DiTerlizzi decided to set the poem, which famously begins, ‘”Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly,’ in an old doll house. The stanzas lead the reader through various rooms of the house, illustrated in a style inspired by 1930s and 40s Hollywood horror movies, before ending in the dreaded parlour. Lest you think this story is too disturbing for a child, it is a cautionary tale. So, you know, it has a moral. Just in that uncensored, original Grimm’s brothers kind of way. 

Mommy Has a Tattoo by Phil Padwe is a reassuring story for kids who are afraid of tattoos out of context. James doesn’t know what to think about his friend’s mother’s tattoo until he discovers that his own mother has a tattoo, too. Mommy Has a Tattoo teaches kids not to see tattoos as scary, but to see them as beautiful art, symbols and sources of pride for many mothers. With the 90s come and gone, I’d say this is a pretty relevant topic for parents who sport the ubiquitous ankle or lower back tattoo.

Maybe more helpful would be a book aimed at teenagers with words of wisdom from tattooed parents, like, “don’t let that stranger at the party ink you with a dirty pen and indian paint,” “don’t get a tattoo of your current boy/girlfriend’s name,” and “remember, it’s for life, so either make sure the symbol will mean something to you in twenty years, or else, make sure it’s something you’ll laugh about in 20 years.”

With it’s hipster-y, underground style of illustrations, My Tattooed Dad is one of the most promising titles I came across in my search. This illustrated book of stories by Daniel Nesquens, Sergio Mora, Magicomora is about one boy’s mostly absent father, because, as the boy’s mother explains, “he has ants in his pants.” Probably a very comforting story for similarly unstable families, but arguably not a great book to give to a stable one. All the same, the illustrations are so imaginative and the Dad’s tales of worldly travel and adventure so fanciful that we almost forgive him when he steps out of the boys life another time. He always returns, though, with more stories and, you guessed it, more tattoos.

Dear Readers, help me with this one if you can. Do you know of any other children’s books for “alternative” families, i.e., parents with piercings, tattoos and colored hair? I’d love to hear them! I could do an entirely separate post for other nontraditional families (multiracial, same sex parents, adopted children, etc), and I think I will. 

(top photo from adventures of Beth)

I would love to have this bookshelf (and enough wall space to accomodate it) for organizing literature by region. If I’m going to be patriotic, I’m going to be bookishly so. The only problem being, some of the richest literary states are a bit too wee to hold all the books. It reminds me of the book maps from The Literary Gift Company. Did you ever see it?

Do you find that your reading tastes gravitate toward readers from a certain region? I probably read a good deal of southern and New England literature. How about you?

PS, more dreamy Book Spaces.

 

Did you hear about this French artist who buried himself underneath a Marseille bookstore for a week? He basically lived in a tiny hole for a week, with only a small stack of books to keep him company, selected by the bookstore clerk.

I’m just gonna say it: I have often fantasized about taking a similar style reading holiday. Many times. Not to this guy’s extreme, obviously (apparently, his legs swelled from being cramped for so long), but I’d pull a Tom Hanks in a minute if I could hang out on a deserted island for a week and read a stack of hand-selected books. How about you?

You can read more and watch a video interview with him here.

(Photo by Gerard Julien/AFP, story via Melissaboxoxo)

Hazel Motes, Wise Blood by Flannery O'Connor

Have you seen this eery tumblr page? Brian Joseph Davis combines police composite sketch software and descriptions of characters from literature to create these rather evocative images. Hypothetically, it’s the closest we can come to seeing the characters as the authors do.

Don’t you get the feeling that any one of these characters could be serial killers? Is that the police composite software coming into it or a reflection on the author?

Daisy Buchanan The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Humbert Humbert Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov

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