○ soup or sunday? ○
you’re looking at a recently reanimated soup night. it was, as is often the case with the undead, somewhat paler in hue than its previous incarnations, but no less warm-blooded or vibrant. i never knew before that corn chowder could be decadent, and the messy cookie cake was better than brains.
illustration commissioned by emiliejolie.
○ there’s one week left until s.p.x., where we’ll be sharing table W33 with the fifty flip experiment. we’ve never been to bethesda before, but we have the vague impression this is a pretty crummy spot, and you’ll really have to hunt us down on purpose if you want to find us. we’ll try to have something new on hand to make the search worthwhile, but we’re not making any promises. the drawing is just not happening as much is it needs to.
small press expo 2009
saturday, september 26th, 11 – 7 & sunday, september 27th, 12 – 6
bethesda north marriott hotel and convention center
$10/day or $15/weekend
○ Matthew Swanson & Robbi Behr, the clever co-creators of idiots’ books, have work on display at sacred heart university‘s gallery of contemporary art in fairfield, connecticut. the show, titled derailed: comics off the beaten track, features art by swanson & behr, charles fetherolf, richard hahn, and stef lenk. it runs until october 29th and looks unbelievably awesome.
○ we’re trying to teach ourselves to use a brush, because we’re told it’s somewhat faster than attempting to mimic the qualities of brush strokes with a micron. we had the idea the other night when everyone else was cooking and we couldn’t find our pencil sharpener. but it’s ridiculously impossible and we’ve decided all you people are crazy.
○ coach made us mac & cheese. it was delicious, as always, but he cooked it in the oven tray girlcate needed for her messy cookie cake. thus did necessity beget the messy cookie muffin, and man is it amazing what you can convince yourself qualifies as breakfast food.
coach, at right, behind the kitchen counter. brush: 1, kenan: 0.
the point is this: times, as you may have heard, are tough. we’re working more than we want to, and drawing less, to keep it all together. it’s easy to feel frustrated, or somehow slighted, like we are being denied something to which we are inexplicably entitled, as though the world owed us anything, and we assure that this is precisely how we feel. if we’re wandering around in five-year-old fashions, and if we’re not going to make it to stockholm this spring, and if we have no savings whatsoever, we’d like it to be because we squandered them on something useless and irresponsible. something shiny, or rare, or delicious. and yes, fillings are technically shiny, and no, they still don’t count.
but we know as well as you do that we should shut up and quit whining. by any reasonable definition of wealth, we are swimming in it; we’re surrounded by friends and eating well. and if there’s something more we might ask of life, it’s a trifle, a trinket, a pink plastic bauble when compared with what treasures we already have.