Over the Moon: Block Prints

After remembering all the great art we'd seen during our travels in Indiana yesterday, I started doing a little more research on Gustave Baumann, the mantle-carving printmaker who was such a good friend to T.C. and Selma Steele. Baumann was a very prolific woodblock printer who appears to have done a lot of color reduction printing, a method in which one begins with the lightest, broadest color in the piece and gradually carves down and prints each subsequent element with the same block onto the same print, slowly creating the desired image as the shapes become more defined with each new color. It seems he was able to be quite exact with this process, meaning most of his prints are sharp and crisp, though he often seemed to choose ephemeral subjects. For example to the right is his South Water Street Chicago, which illustrates an urban landscape but is also open and atmospheric. Looking through his work today rekindled the love I have always had for prints and, though I have mostly dabbled in intaglio, this sort of woodblock printing reminds me of how beautiful relief printing can be.

Baumann's The Landmark

Baumann's Mathis Alley

As I poked around online looking at his work, I found Baumann had done an interesting collaboration with James Whitcomb Riley, famed Indiana poet. Riley had written a poem for each month out of the year and Baumann illustrated. The final work was called All the Year Round. I only wish I could get my hands on a copy of that, it's completely adorable. I actually found a few of them on eBay; I think Sean and I need to start saving for an art-on-the-wall fund. Below are pictured July and April, respectively.

While I was looking at Baumann another beloved block printer came to mind. I was introduced to her work one Michigan winter by my friend Ellen, who had invited Shannon and I up north to sled down the Sleeping Bear dunes and cross-country ski at her family's vacation home there. Frostic made beautiful and simple nature prints (that simplicity seems to be a theme), some of them similar to Baumann, except when she layers her prints she has made a separate plate to lay down for the background, I think, instead of using the color reduction method. I couldn't find much of Frostic's work online aside from this great little guy:
So I took some photos of the work we have of hers hanging on our wall. These are just some greeting cards I bought at her studio and put into cheap Ikea frames:

On one final note, though perhaps the note about which I am most excited, I found some ancient block prints done a different way. The famous Great Wave by Hokusai from his 36-views of Mt. Fuji series has been recreated in a medium called Tatebanko, which is a Japanese art form where one uses cut out paper to create a three dimensional diorama. I am just smitten with these! They also have a version of Hiroshige's Evening Snow. Both are available for sale here. Enjoy!

two honeymoons

Since Sean was in a wedding the weekend after ours, we didn't leave immediately for our honeymoon. We had a little interim week where we had nothing to do, which was actually really nice. We had decided beforehand that we would go on a short trip for a couple of days that week, but we didn't want to plan it. We would just decide, pack up the car, and go.

and that's what we did.

After some debate including Michigan and Tennessee, we decided on Indiana. A friend of Sean's who went to school in Bloomington gave us some great recommendations and we drove out to Brown County state park and stayed in a tiny cabin down the hill from the Abe Martin lodge. The park is really beautiful and is right outside of Nashville, Indiana, which it turns out is this cute artists colony. There are blocks and blocks of stores and restaurants and fudge shops that have a million knick-knacks and handmade goods hanging everywhere. There were all sorts of artisans, some with chainsaws carving giant stumps into various animal forms, leather smiths, painters, you name it. At one leather shop I was able to rummage through the old scraps and took home a beautiful teal jewel-toned piece. I don't know yet what it will become, but I will add it to my resources.

While visiting a used bookstore we learned of a famous artist of the past whose homestead was preserved nearby from the shop owner there.

Turns out he was a retired pastor of 20 years and gave us a nice lecture on marriage when he found out we were newlyweds. Anyhow, he told us about T.C. Steele, who, with his wife Selma, built quite a remarkable property not 10 miles from there. It had been given to the state and now people can go through there on tours. We checked it out on our way into Bloomington that evening--where by the by we had the best Thai food ever--and went back

the following day. Turns out T.C. Steele was pretty much the man in the early 1900's. You can see Sean standing outside of the Steele's large studio in the dad sweatshirt we bought him at Indiana U. That was only one of the many buildings they had built in the middle of nowhere in Indiana, because it was beautiful there and T.C. wanted to paint landscapes. After they camped there, though, artists started following them out there, and thus the artists colony in Nashville was born. Their house was pretty sweet. They had friends and fellow artists come visit them often, one of whom was Gustav Baumann who did these fantastic nature woodblock prints. He also engraved the phrase

"Every morning I take off my hat to the beauty of the world" into the granite of the fireplace of the House of the Singing Winds, which is the name T.C. and Selma gave their home.It was just all very beautiful to Sean and I. We had about a quarter bottle of wine in the trunk of our car and did a little toast to these pioneer artists as we sat in the parking lot there. We also got to stop by the Limestone Symposium before we left town, which made Sean all giddy like a schoolboy. A tall, weathered stone carver from New Mexico by the name of Sharon was very kind to us. She had a long blonde-grey braid that trailed down her back and took off her weight lifters gloves to lend to Sean as she taught him to use the pneumatic tools. We are going to save our money and hopefully go back next year so Sean can actually take official lessons with them. He is out in the back yard as I write this sanding down some panels he built a few weeks ago. He's becoming quite the hardworking artist, that one.

Our second honeymoon could not have been more the opposite from our first. We went to this all-inclusive resort in Mexico, a little south of Cancun. Here you can see Sean sleeping on the outdoor bed on our balcony and yes, that is the actual view with the ocean there being that unreal shade of blue. At the resort we had lots of time to read by the ocean and eat. Man, did we eat! There were all sorts of different restaurants in the resort including an Asian place, Caribbean and Italian fare, but by far the best was the Mexican food (duh) that you could order off a separate menu at most places. My one big complaint about the resort was that because of the all-inclusive thing, it seemed like many of the other guests were there to mainly drink 24/7. By 11am usually the stools at the pool bar near us were full, and when we came back from the beach around 4 or 5, the same folks were still there drinking, maybe joined by a few other couples. It must have seemed very strange to them that we only wanted to actually swim in the pool.

But enough of that. It was still really enjoyable. We did an excursion one day to Chichen-Itza and saw the ancient Mayan ruins. Our guide, Victor, was extremely knowledgeable and told us the history of the place by drawing in the sand with his walking stick. We stopped at an ancient Yucatan sink hole on the way there called the Ik-Kil cenote and we actually got to swim in it! I have never experienced anything quite like it. There were all these little black catfish swimming in the strange, cool, blue water that you could just reach out and touch. Vines hung in from the top and little streams trickled down and we felt like we were on the set of The Goonies or something. It was probably one of my favorite parts of the whole trip.

And now we are home, safe and sound in Oxford, just setting up shop. Our house is really starting to take shape. Sean unpacked a lot of things and cleaned like a banshee yesterday and now our living room really looks like a living room. We spent last night watching Fiddler on the Roof and reveling in the clean. Pictures to come soon!

books + breakfast

On the flight back from our honeymoon, after having completely devoured our other reading materials, Sean purchased a copy of Sherlock Holmes: The Hound of the Baskervilles at an airport bookstore in Atlanta. We were both in withdrawal from the good reads we'd had during the week; I had finished Ann Patchet's new novel State of Wonder, a story of a Minnesotan research doctor who gets plunged into the brazilian rainforest in a search of her dead coworker/secret fertility tree bark/ex professor (I know it sounds sort of wild, but it was pretty good), and Sean read Shop Class as Soul-Craft by Michael Crawford, a book that explores the nature of work in our culture (he read me excerpts, and it sounds phenomenal. Can't wait to get my hands on it). The Sherlock Holmes was a perfect rebound book for us, the only issue being that we both wanted to read it, so we decided to read it out loud with each other. It's has been so much fun! We actually just finished it this morning, which brings me to my next topic: breakfast.

Our routine this past week, before jumping into our "nesting" activities for the day, has been to cook a mighty breakfast. One of us reads while the other mans the kitchen, pressing coffee and frying up eggs. Then we pause to eat together, and afterwards we switch duties reading and doing dishes. It has been quite relaxing and a great way to to start our days. I wanted to share a few notable breakfasts with you that I felt rather proud of. The first was breakfast bruschetta. We had a little left over garlic bread from the night before which I cut into slices and pan crisped. Then I chopped a tomato and a bit of onion and minced up some fresh basil which I stirred in with some sea salt and fresh ground black pepper. Eggs were laid over-easy onto the garlic bread and topped with the fresh bruschetta mixture. Tasty, simple and fresh. The next day we had some fresh guacamole just sitting there in the fridge and some chicken andouille sausages from trader joe's, the latter of which we diced up and threw into a skillet with eggs and salsa. That got served over pan-fried corn tortillas and topped with the guac and some fresh cilantro. My mom also gave us a little table with two chairs that we put out back and were able to enjoy many a meal at. The particular one pictured out there features these great breakfast bowls Sean makes. He fries up a bunch of potatoes with cayenne pepper and onions and peppers and puts fried eggs over the top with cheese. The result is absolutely delicious.

We have been fortunate enough to have made these delicacies in our lovely kitchen, which we spent a lot of time on this week. Sean mounted a shelf above the pass-through and I put screw-hooks in it and red shelf to hang our mugs and teacups in. We are quite proud of it and the way our little nest is taking shape. I wish I had before and after pictures to show you, but alas, just the after pics will have to suffice on their own.

apology/recap

let me begin by saying: I know. I know that it's been quite a long time since my last post. Perhaps an unforgivable amount, even, but I am here to humbly beg your forgiveness. I had delusions of grandeur, you see, of being able to blog about all the fun wedding projects I would be doing...

allow me to share what I've learned:

When people say "Oh! how fun!" in response to the knowledge that you're planning your wedding, what they mean is "I would have so much fun planning someone else's wedding!" When it's your own, it's not that fun, at least in this bride's opinion. You have to deal with things like last minute expenses (we forgot to pay the band at our reception) and really insignificant details (white or ivory tablecloths?).

Not to completely eschew the whole experience. Ok. There were fun parts. Like choosing my dress and tasting lots of different food and registering. But all these things were laced with stress, the gnawing feeling that everything is for your own wedding, your own one-time, all-my-friends-will-be-there, this-is-it hoopla.

I don't know. It seems almost too close, too personal, too sentimental to be fun. Like one slip-up would ruin the whole thing and you would be to blame. The wedding itself was a fantastic experience, one that Sean and I agree we would already be willing to relive (it was a bit of a blur) but those last months leading up to it, not to mention weeks, were certainly hard. All this is to say, please forgive my brief hiatus. I hope you understand.

But there was one thing about the wedding that was so good it made all the tough parts pale in comparison. It made the decision-making overload and endless to-do lists worth it. And that was the outpouring of love we felt from all the people who surrounded us on that day. I still can't quite believe the selflessness with which our friends and family acted. I would so much as think of something that needed to be done and there was a friend by my side, pleading that I delegate said task to them. We had folks who crossed a continent just to see us exchange our vows. People would stop at no length on that day to make sure everything was perfect for us, and it really was, and for that I would do the whole thing over again.

ps- see these great pics? I stole them off my friend Laura's blog. She's a pretty great photographer and you can see her work here.

taking time to make stuff.

This week I was fortunate enough to be creatively employed. Well, not for money, but it was certainly pleasant having a project. My friend Hannah works at an adorable little boutique here in Oxford called Juniper and she asked me to come in and help with a new window display this week while all the students were out of town for spring break. I convinced Megan, a friend from my work, to help and we had so much fun making stuff. Mostly we just got to hang out and make paper flowers all day, which, if you ask me, is an awesome day. It reminded me of how nice it feels to make things just for the sake of making things. I've been pretty obsessed with Ashley Meaders, a DIY style event designer, and we used her ideas as inspiration. We made a bunch of different sorts of flowers before settling on what we used, and just playing around with the paper and whatever we could find around the store was a perfect exercise in creativity. It definitely got the juices flowing again, which feels great. Overall, not a life-changing mammoth project, but it felt nice to be creating in public other than murals, not to mention the chance to be around some great ladies all day.

(Above)Megan working on the finishing touches for the flowers

(Below) The finished product!

To Register or Not To Register?

Registering for gifts is one of the strangest customs I have encountered during our engagement. For the first time in your life you get to tell all your friends and family, "buy me things!" and you don't even have to be ashamed about it. What's more, you get to tell them exactly what to get you so they don't even have the excuse that they just weren't sure what you needed. AND you get to run around department stores with little price zappers in some deranged grown-up version of laser tag. So what's not to love?

The downside is this: as with all great privileges, this can be abused. Sean and I, in addition to Target and Crate & Barrel, also opened a registry on Amazon.com for the express purpose of using their Universal Wishlist feature. That means nothing is off limits for your registry. Maybe you want to register for that one-of-a-kind wine opener hewn from ancient acacia trees and blessed by a shaman but it's only sold on some obscure import enthusiast site. Thanks to this feature, that's not a problem. You can rope in any items from any site and compile them into a registry on Amazon. This opens a world of possibilities, but in the words of Solomon, an increase in knowledge is an increase in sorrows. No sooner had I started poking around the internet for cool, one-of-a-kind items to add to our registry than I realized that this feature made it really easy to go overboard. I've seen plenty of couples get married and register for items they use once and then it becomes another thing that takes up space. I'm sure Sean and I's first place won't be Versailles, and whatever space we have we'll need to use economically.

Still, it's hard to hold back on some of this stuff, so I've compiled a list of my Top Ten Things I Wish I Could Register For, just to get them off my chest. Some things got the boot because they were too impractical or too expensive or the fatal combination of both. Seriously, what good would it be to have a historically accurate working Gramophone if you have no plates to eat dinner off of while you listen? Better to stick with the necessary objects, I say. Also, some items snuck their way in because they were just selfish wishes: things I'm not sure register etiquette allows for, I just don't have the funds to buy them for myself. Finally, the most difficult to veto were things like rugs and furniture that belong on a registry, we just don't know where we'll be and if those things will fit wherever we end up. But hey, maybe I'm being too practical. Anything on here you think I really should put on the registry? I'm standing by...

My Top Ten Things I Wish I Could Register For:

1. Swallow Mobile/$130

2. Gramophone/$187

3. Dandelion Rug/$1,082

4. Subscription to Real Simple/$24

5. Artichoke Book Pages Paper Lantern/$30

6. Churchill Leather Reading Chair/$2295

7. McSweeny's Postcards/$14

8. J.Crew Swimsuit/$88

9. Floral Lampshade/$98

10. Forest Wallpaper/$180

living in libraries

Yesterday while trolling down the aisles of our local grocer, I discovered a treasure. It was the only one of it's kind left on the shelf, and for $1.70, there was no way I could afford to leave it there. Now it resides on our coffee table. The verdict? Best $1.70 I spent yesterday. I know you must be wondering the identity of said mystery object and don't fret, I will tell you.

It's a tissue box.

Yes, it's true, I've always been a sucker for a well designed tissue box. You can observe for yourself how nice it looks in our home. It's got that great book

spine design that I've noticed is becoming quite prevalent lately, a trend whose train I will shamelessly jump on.

I first began to notice this around Christmas, when I gave my lovely housemate and snail mail enthusiast Shannon a box of Penguin Publishing house's Postcards from Penguin, in which there are 100 postcards featuring vintage Penguin book covers. One of the cards that really caught my eye sports a stack of some particularly flashy old book spines.

Penguin, it seems, has really been cashing in on this. Postcards aren't the only items being printed with their book stacks. They are also hawking novelty wrapping paper and journals, both of which I could be easily tempted to endanger my bank account over.

A6 notebook from ShopUntil

Penguin Spines Wrapping Paper from ShinyShack

You don't even need an actual library these days to fill your house with books. You don't need to run to Ikea for that MDF shelving system you can't pronounce the name of (who knows how to use an umlaut these days?) All you need is wallpaper.

Stacked Paperback Wallpaper from Anthropologie

It's true. Designer Tracy Kendall has made it possible for you to tome it up anywhere you like...or at least anywhere your landlord will allow.

When I saw that tissue box, it made me wonder: why are we so into this? Why

do we suddenly want to be surrounded by books? Is it because soon we won't have them anymore? Are we printing them on every surface imaginable because they are a dying relic? The Amazon Kindle has made a killing already, and other reading gadgets, like Barnes and Noble's Nook, already can pull up thousands of books (even those from your public library!) for your convenience. I think our culture is being confronted with letting go of an object that is more than just a thing. The book is a symbol of knowledge, learning, and the possibility for people to understand each other across time and cultures. By that definition the Book is something epic, something we won't get over easily.

I recall an exhibit I saw in Cincinnati last fall by one of my favorite artists, Anne Hamilton, called Reading. There were several different experiential aspects to the exhibition, but just one that really stuck with me. Hamilton had cut up old paperback books and stacked them in ways that were beautiful and detailed and compelling.

Hamilton's Book Weight

In her statement the artist describes reading "as [an experience] that might leave the reader forever changed, but leave no material trace"(Hamilton 2010). It's true that the book itself is just a vessel for it's words, so maybe the object itself isn't important. But when I look at these things printed with book spines I am reminded of the Royal Tenenbaums and how you can almost smell that old musty book scent just watching that movie. How Ritchie and Margot camp out in the Museum of Natural History and read books by flashlight under the benches. And I think of how, my freshman year of college, I would ride my bike across town to the public library every friday before dinner and pile a bunch of books in my basket to take back to my dorm, more than I would ever read. I hope I'm not the only one out there. Didn't any of you ever retreat into those wise old walls of books? But being in there felt safe, like there were familiar things and people in an otherwise unfamiliar place.

Maybe a Kindle can conjure up those same feelings, but I remain skeptical. As for the wallpaper, tissue boxes, and other book-printed paraphernalia, I say an emphatic yes please! Just don't let them take away the actual books; let them make it feel more like living in that old, familiar library.