come down off the wall.

I am deep in a pile of projects.

Most of which do not involve glass and matt cutting and unwieldy wooden frames that barely fit in the back of my 4-runner  (this is a good thing because the 4-runner has recently been sold and life is a car-free experiment these days).

Things that do fit nicely in the my backpack, or bike trailer are:

Otter and Octopus A Northwest Alphabet Project- a Seattle CityArtist grant proposal that would help me create a series of environmental alphabet letter posters for display and use in schools, libraries, and community locations where fledgling readers hang out. Fingers crossed.

the Winter Harvest Card Set- Ive been conspiring with friend and foodwriter Jess Thomson. We’ve made a set of cards with my papercut images on the front and her lovely recipes on the back (inside is left blank for notes and well wishing). Together the set makes a cozy winter dinner party menu.  They are on the shelves at the Book Larder and Picnic, two great Seattle shops and on etsy.

Also keeping me busy are holiday card designs for a  kindred biking Ballard family, Oceanographer logos to go on the sides of C-vans,  holiday present commissions for coastal and mountain dwellers, and for one  lovely lady who is emailing me ideas from an icebreaker in the Southern Ocean…….

I am also terribly excited about  water-jet cut metal designs and the Whalefall project that made me cry in my breve at the coffeeshop this morning, but ill save those  for next time.


the onion, the sure thing

An onion is a sure thing.

It is easy to keep for months, and will be the same tearfully wonderful kitchen staple  after a winter in a sack as it was the  first day picked. It is also a gateway vegetable. The simple onion inspires me and suddenly there are buckets of beets in sand under the porch and nooks and crannies stuffed with jars of pickled and jammed everything.

I gave away a whole braid of onions in the fall, feeling overwhelmed with produce, they’re just onions…

Now im out of my own, but rather than regret reckless generosity,  I want it to remind me to hand out the  precious stinging nettle pesto  and all the treasures that come along this year with the same  generous abandon.