Caraway, mustard, apple, cabbage


I’ve got a pot of cabbage ‘n apples on the stove, and am conducting a test of Meredith’s vintage kitchen timer, synched up with my iPhone. We’re at 16 minutes and change; the kitchen timer says…15 and change! Mostly a success! So who has a spare pork roast they can bring over for dinner?

Sometimes I feel very Polish.

I’m in my sleepwear in the record room, which can be very sunny, and have moved two plants in need of Vitamin D into the sunbeams. Also, I’ve said some kind words to them because I read somewhere that plants grow happier and healthier when you talk to them. TRUE STORY (from the 1990s, this is old news for hippie green thumbs)

photo 1
There’s so much to tell you, and I have fallen off my “schedule” of blogging on Sundays. It’s THURSDAY but that doesn’t matter, because what is time, anyway? It’s a day off, of which I feel like I have many these days, but then suddenly I wake up and it’s February 13th already.

Meredith, thank you for owning and alphabetically organizing 1,000+ amazing zines and minicomics that are just sitting in this room, ready to read, whenever one fancies. I picked up DORIS #17 and was reminded that I probably need to read every issue ever made. She wrote an incredible story in this issue called “Ice Cream.”

Emma knows I don’t like her. We’ve worked together for four days now and we barely talk, which makes me dislike her less. This morning a girl my age came in and ordered coffee and a raspberry croissant. She ate slowly while she studied calculus. She doesn’t hate her classes, which are all too big, and sits in the first row. When the professor isn’t looking, she draws pictures of him with larger than life feathers. She has friends and likes to sit on the top of city parking ramps late at night and watch the cars and people below.
When I go into the kitchen to check on the chocolate fudge brownies Emma’s making, they are not quite done. I watch Emma knead dough, her hands covered with flour and water. I don’t hate her. “Emma?” I say, wishing I hadn’t said her name, and she turns around.
“Do you like ice cream?” She hasn’t had any the whole four days. Not even a taste.
“I love it,” she says, “but I didn’t really feel right just taking it.”
“Well, do you want some?”
“I’d take vanilla.”
I get it for her and leave the kitchen quickly. I hope she doesn’t start talking to me.

Check out more rad Doris here. I am not sure, but since this issue isn’t listed in her distro, I’m hoping this story and maybe other bits/all of Doris #17 can be found in either Doris: an Anthology of zines and other stuff 1991 – 2001 or Encyclopedia of Doris: stories, interviews, essays.

WOW, I just spent a million minutes reading this amazing interview with Andrice Arp (by Julianna Green) about creating and productivity and work/progress. I am in love with Andrice’s response to this question: If everything you wanted to accomplish formed a mountain, and you ascended to the very peak, would you put another mountain atop that mountain?

I’m not one of those people who has a whole queue of fully formed ideas lined up and waiting for the current project to be done. I have a lot of beginnings of ideas, but I struggle a lot with trying to get or develop ideas. I have a lot of ideas about the form and structure of things, but I often have a hard time with the content. Content-wise, I have a lot of seeds, but often no idea of how to plant them and make them grow. So to continue this dorkatronic metaphor, I have the seeds, and some really cool-looking pots, but I don’t know where to find the right soil? I guess? Sigh.

I’m going to draw my mountain atop a mountain. And me putting another mountain on top of that mountain.

And then another million minutes browsing Sean Christensen’s funny and weird blog…

…and webcomics and such at Study Group Comics. I am so glad that everyone else is just as weird as me, and I love weirdos so much.

THE BLONDE WOMAN: Part 1 by Aidan Koch

THIS IS HOW I SPEND MY DAYS OFF. I don’t listen to or read the news. What’s happening in the world, on the planet? Which peoples are uprising against narrow-minded dictatorships, having their “spring”? Who is being oppressed and suffering injustice of cruel systems now? How are these events filtered through faltered humans with personal opinions? How else are we ignoring what’s really going on by zoning out to lists of cute cat pictures on BuzzFeed? That’s basically how the news feels to me.

On Tuesday, I got to spend some sweet catch-up time with Serra, who is lots of weeks pregnant but still has a couple months til baby! She’s picked up embroidery again, which is totally appropriate for a pregnant lady, sitting by the window on a cold winter day, embroidering amazing, colorful, strange thread renditions of her amazing, colorful, strange drawings. The roads were still covered in sludge and slush and ice and I wished her safe toddling home as I got onto the Surly and cursed the roads.


Oh yeah! It snowed a BUNCH! But it wasn’t that much snow, relatively speaking. New York and Philly have had like, ten snowstorms in 2014 already! It’s 54 degrees today!

On that note, here I go, off into the warmth. Off to eat some stewed apples and cabbage.

I will post some new drawings soon. I have plenty of them, but have been inexcusably lazy about hooking up the scanner. I will reign in my undiagnosed ADD and focus up so y’all can enjoy something new.


2 responses to “Caraway, mustard, apple, cabbage

  1. Hey cool, I’m in your blog post! I just now realized you have been posting more regularly so I’m gonna catch up on some archives. Yay for weirdos!

    • Yeah! You are in my blog often! Gotta give back, the more I hang out with other comics weirdos the more likely I am to blog about them :)

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