No. 22 Laying little rugs of light out

A new project underway, an unexpected journey, and some phrases that feel like holding perfect pebbles in my hand.

I’ve begun a new project: it’s a card deck filled with animals. An illustration and design project, but I think it can be lumped in under the heading of Art Projects well enough. I’ve long thought about devising a deck of cards, but always it seemed too daunting a project— but I no longer fear a long-term project, nor do I fear winnowing out the decks I do not wish to make— I’m willing to be decisive. I began it back in August, and it’s coming along pretty well. I have fourteen of the 54 cards designed already, in the form of sketches of the animals in layout with their numbers and pips. Not ready to share any of those just yet, but stay tuned.

The four suits align with four major biomes / habitats (forest, grassland, desert, aquatic), but I’m not 100% locked on all the animals yet. I began the project with apex predators being Kings, but that seems a bit of a yawn, entirely expected. Lions and wolves and sharks already get plenty of PR! And this is my deck, so I’m writing the rules, such a they are. Perhaps the Kings could be animals that are dangerous to humans— a fun twist on the predator idea.

At the moment, the aces are all tiny adorable animals. I’m looking for lesser-known animals or variations, and also trying to make it a somewhat global parliament of beasts and birds. The long and short of it, though: I’m choosing based on which ones look fun to draw, and will make an interesting design within the proportions of a poker card.

My goal is to complete all of the card designs, with drawings, before doing any ‘finished’ illustrations. That’ll take awhile, so in the meantime I’ve been doing paintings of animals in sketchbooks; experimenting with styles, colors, etc. I anticipate by the time I’ve finished all 54 card designs, I’ll have made all the necessary decisions re: how I want to execute and finish the actual, final illustrations.

One such decision may well be: To gold foil or not to gold foil?

Earlier this month, I received a startling call from one of my brothers, very early in the morning. He’d taken my mother into the Emergency Room the night before, and by morning she was in the ICU. I bought a plane ticket. She remained in the Intensive Care Unit for four days before a transfer to a less-alarming ward, where the stabilization of the problem was de-escalated: from many IV meds to oral meds.

We took her home about a week and a half ago, and I stayed with her (working remotely) as she began to recover and get into the rhythm of a new schedule, new meds, new limitations. I love spending time at the farm, but I sure do prefer better circumstances— visiting for a holiday, or just because. Not for an emergency. That said, I’m grateful I was able to be there with her and my brothers and their families— and more grateful that she’s home.

I returned to Brooklyn yesterday.

While I was upstate, the weather was absolutely dreamy; truly fine just about every day. Now I’ve returned home, and it’s a glum one today, grey and damp. A real feeling of autumn has fallen like a curtain, bringing with it an urge to close windows against the chill.

I took today off work as a recalibration day. How did I recalibrate? I spent about five+ hours organizing quotations, phrases, and notes from a document full of same, compiled from smaller ones dating back to 2005. It was absorbing, diverting— even without fully reading many of them. As there were so many, I resorted to printing out many of them and pasting them into the Commonplace Book mentioned in my last post. I also realized that this book is a perfect place to also transfer my lists of Books I’ve Read (listed by year), a practice I began in 2018, and wish I’d begun much earlier. It’s hard to recall all the things one reads, even whole damn books— even ones that were profound, transporting, wonderful, memorable, or meaningful.

It’s not exactly how I’d planned to spend the morning and afternoon— after two weeks away, I ‘ought’ to’ve been cleaning the apartment, tending to the garden, lord knows what. But as the past couple weeks have distressingly and eye-openingly reminded, things don’t always go to plan.

Below is a tiny smattering from the many, many phrases I’ve added to the book so far.

“Whoever makes up the story makes up the world.”
—Ali Smith, Autumn

“And the dear ordinary had healed as seamlessly as an image on water.”
—Marilynne Robinson, Housekeeping

“Ground floors’ lit windows laying little rugs of light out into their lawns.”
—David Foster Wallace , Infinite Jest

“I used to tickle him and he’d say NO! NO! NO! NO!
Then I’d stop. And he’s say MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE!
That about sums up how I feel about life.”
— Andy Hamilton, Guy Jenkin, What We Did on Our Holiday (film)

“Decisiveness has a nobility of its own.”
—Penelope Fitzgerald, Innocence

“I find a little place here among people with my turn of mind”
—Anne Truitt, Turn

There are many, many turns of phrase in my collections that do not comprise even a single complete thought or sentence. It seems I frequently collect groupings of words, elegant small shapes, glints of what feels true as a bell— the enjoyment of holding a few perfect pebbles in the palm, like jewels.

If you’ve a favorite quote, please share in the comments. I’d love to hear what shapes make perfect pebbles to people other than myself.

That’s it from me this week.

Winter approaches; sends his calling card of early dark. What makes me not dread those months as I once did: there’s more time for me to think and to make than in my Summers. Additionally, the printmaking studio where I work on etchings will be reopening soon, having moved over the summer to a new, larger space—exciting!

If you enjoyed this, tap that heart or leave a comment— I love to hear from you.

x Liz