Washington, D.C. — I've been sending my daily letters out in batches of three or four. I decided to take photos of each batch just to see where I am color-wise with my envelope choices. I guess I'm in a mostly blue phase right now. I love using Dr. Ph. Martin's Bleed Proof White ink on blue envelopes. It really makes the blue pop.
Shadow Puppets and Silhouettes
Washington, D.C. — It's funny how often you forget to watch music videos, even though they enhance your appreciation of a song. I listen to the Swedish band Little Dragon a lot on Spotify while I work, but I never think to watch their videos. Recently, I recommended the band to someone and in looking up their song Twice, I stumbled upon this amazing video. As a child, I always loved shadow puppets and silhouettes, so to see this haunting song transformed into a lyrical piece of puppet theatre was wonderful. It's such a beautiful and melancholic film full of subtle details.
I really like Kara Walker's silhouette art, so I created this envelope using a similar technique. The illustration was drawn and filled in with black sumi ink, so there was a nice sheen on the black surfaces of the envelope when held up to the light. It's a different sort of shadow puppet play depicting a childhood scene of the lazy days of summer.
A Serendipitous Encounter
New York, NY — A couple of weeks ago I was in NYC. Typically, when I go up to visit NYC, I like to browse and stock up on calligraphy supplies and paper stock. In search of specialty shops, I came across a website for J. Herbin. It's my fault for not reading carefully, but I misread the website thinking there was a retail shop called J. Herbin, located in Chelsea. So the next day, my sister Maria and I set out to find this shop.
We found the street number, but the door led to a freight elevator past a few trash dumpsters. Despite our apprehension, we pushed forward and got on the freight elevator. We looked really out of place, but our fellow elevator riders paid us no mind. We eventually got to the right floor and entered through the door. In that moment, like a record scratching, Maria and I looked around the offices and then at each other. Our confused looks signaled to the employees that we were lost. I explained to a very nice woman (I think her name was Christine, forgive me if I'm wrong) that I was looking for a calligraphy shop named J. Herbin. She explained that this was the office of Exaclair, a wholesaler of J. Herbin and other fine calligraphy products, and that there is no retail shop. Embarrassed, Maria and I were ready to shuffle are way back to the freight elevator.
But to our surprise, she felt so bad that we came up all this way—and in the freight elevator no less (there was an actual elevator for employees and guests)—that she told us to sit down and have a look at their catalog. She asked more questions and told me they have sample nibs that I could see. Though still hesitant, Maria and I sat down. Then she returned with a Rhodia pad, various holders, a bottle of ink, and a wooden box full of countless Brause nibs. She handed me a roll of paper towels and left us to do my thing.
Later Karen, the VP, came around to introduce herself and I told her about myself. She told us to take our time, test the nibs, and feel free to take samples home. I was so taken aback by their generosity, I thought I had misheard. And then, Karen again encouraged me to take samples—several different kinds of Brause nibs, including the Brause Rose. I thanked her profusely for her and her colleagues' graciousness and generosity. We exchanged business cards, and Maria and I left through the office's front door and down the official elevator, realizing that the actual office entrance was just a few store fronts from where we first entered.
As a person, I appreciate this encounter so much because it demonstrates the kindness and openness people are capable of, even when they have nothing to gain in return. As a calligrapher, I am grateful that they were so generous with their time and resources. In this world where handwriting and penmanship are slowly disappearing, I like to think that we both recognized our mutual love for the art and that this encounter was a true moment of shared understanding.
My gratitude and best wishes to Karen and her colleagues at Exaclair. Looking forward to crossing paths again!
A Little Sunday Bookbinding
Washington, D.C. — I was hired to calligraph a song of friendship by a client. What I had originally conceived as a long vertical piece eventually turned into a multipage booklet. I was a little nervous not knowing how to approach binding the pages together. After a bit of Googling, I came across this wonderful YouTube video by Sea Lemon, demonstrating a DIY approach to binding single pages.
It was easy to understand and implement, down to waxing my own embroidery thread. I didn't have access to curved bookbinding needles, so I tried bending straight bookbinding needles with jewelry pliers. It took two snapped needles for me to realize that I should heat the needle in a bit of flame to make it more malleable. I couldn't achieve a graceful curve, but what I did make worked well enough. (Sidebar: I found that using the straight needles also worked, but required some maneuvering between the pages.)
I love to embroider and cross-stitch, so I found this process to be really fun. And oddly enough, the repetition was quite meditative. When I have more time, I would love to make hand-bound art journals for my niece.
I was happy with the results, and the hand-done binding added an even special touch to this already unique gift from one friend to another.
A Day of Rememberance
Washington, D.C. — March 20th carries special meaning for me. Last year it was the day that my husband David and I put our boy Ludwig to sleep after nearly 18 years together. Losing Ludwig was especially hard for David, who had found Ludwig and his sister Frances when they were just little alley cats in Pittsburgh.
To honor Ludwig's memory, I drew this illustration for David to keep on his desk. We have so many wonderful photographs of Ludwig, but it was this one that really struck me as especially representative of his character, as well as his relationship with David. There are so many little moments, everyday moments, in our lives that we easily take for granted. But it is precisely those moments that build up in our hearts and minds that keep their spirit alive.
March 20th also marks the birthday of Lolo (my grandfather) who passed away almost four years ago. My fondest memories of Lolo were his annual trips to the U.S. to visit our family. When I think about his visits, there are a few objects that really stand out in my mind: his morning cup of black coffee, his stack of hardcover nonfiction books on the bed stand, the crisp, white clothes he wore, and the sight of him snoring on our couch. Above all, I remember his slippers and the soft padding noise they made as he shuffled around my parents' house.
Before Lolo passed away, we took a trip to Manila to visit him and my extended family. My brother and I explored every corner of his bedroom and bathroom, taking photos of whatever cool things we spotted. My brother took a photograph of his penny loafer-style slippers set against the teal-green carpet in his bedroom. It was such an evocative image that captured the essence of how I saw him—a classy, hard-working man who enjoyed his leisure time when he had it. As March 20th approached this year, I knew I wanted to send my father a letter commemorating his father's birthday. An illustration of those slippers were the perfect tribute.