Text: (on TV): “TOMORROW: -30º”
“Oh Wow!!”
“Its so cold this week! That means a snow day!!”
“…”
“kinda cold today, huh guys?”
I personally can’t relate to this comic strip at all! Not even one bit!! But seriously though, I hope everyone is warm and bundled up right now. I think we’ve gotten through the worst of it, but still, please stay warm. Not all of us have fur!
I’ve reached a newfound love for sunrises. I’m now starting my days in the darkness of 7am, and in these too early mornings I find myself witness to the magic of the sun warming the world as it rises the horizons. Yes, I love sunsets as much as the next person, but there’s something about the sun rising and waking tired eyes that feels like a hug after a night spent too alone.
As a professional workaholic, I spend my sunrises and sunsets in the Stamps print studio most days. My lifelong growing love for printmaking has only grown tenfold this past year during my printmaking classes, and in its wake my love for the print studio has blossomed as well. Although I come home bruised, stained with ink, and the sorest I’ve ever been every time after working in the print studio, I’ve never been happier. The print studio has become some what of long lost home in my time here in Ann Arbor. It’s where you go to find someone willing to laugh with you and gossip after a long day working. You’re able to find secrets tucked away in the donated artwork pinned across the walls, lasting memories of those who came before. There’s a peace that exists in the studio when no one is there, and you can feel it right before you walk it. The air is stagnant with the smell of ink and linseed oil, and the metal of the presses sit still and cold until you will them awake for the next step of work. The dust of litho stones are settled into corners never touched by brooms and the crinkle of newsprint stay silent until a breeze shakes them to life. There’s a certain special kind of life breathed into the studio when you step in and see an assortment of people you never would’ve met if it wasn’t for this shared love and you start to create alongside them. There’s a special connection made through printmaking and I find it to be most tangible in the life of the studio. From late nights to early mornings, from spilt ink to perfectly polished plates, the print studio exists as a world entirely its own and it’s something that can never be replaced.
To take into our next week:
Ins: Pomegranate tea, hosting movie nights, reading before bed, sunrises, the color mauve, hummus, thermoses full of coffee.
Outs: Sleeping after 11pm, broken appliances, wind tunnels, dry knuckles, static electricity, grease.
I always believe time is well spent no matter what you’re doing as long as you’re in a space you love. I hope everyone is able to enjoy the places that bring peace, happiness, or even just respite from the chaotic world in the coming days.
Is a flower still a flower if it can’t bloom? If you are that seed sown with doubt & feel that you don’t belong, perhaps you’re a rose in a tulip garden. & if you can’t bloom as they bud with frustration, know that when the tulips wither, you alone will stand tall. - Sappy
It’s a lot to process, I guess…
Text: “SayWhatIfYoureDumb!” (Say ‘what’ if you’re dumb)
“Pardon?”
“What?”
Happy Tuesday night everyone! Hope your weeks go good. For this weeks strip Zippy comes back! (And Mur is wearing a different color for once). I love the dynamics between these two, Zippy is… not smart, and Mur never really understands whats going on. So silly!
We’ve made it… the bend-and-COLD!-snap!!! Do we ever really feel alive unless we can’t feel our eye sockets anymore?
In honor of the frozen weather, I’ve been appreciating all the accessories and layers in my life that keep me functioning from sun up to way past sun down. As someone born and raised in the flux of deadly winters and chilling winds I’ve always had a plethora of hats, gloves, scarves (you name them) every since I was a kid. I think most people can look back to their favorite pom-pom hat or various kitten mittens in fond childhood memories traipsing around in the snow and sledding over death-defying hills. Although I’ve lived in the cold for the majority of my life, I can never ever get used to it. I blame it on my eczema or my penitent for tank tops or anything else I can use as an excuse but no matter what I do in a mere 2 minutes my teeth are chattering all the way home. Because of this, I’ve been giving extra thanks to the scarves that swaddle me and the hats that flatten my bangs a little too much. Each of them carry a piece of a past self or a loved one who cared enough about my warmth to make or gift me a little something that could carry comfort through a chilly walk home. Fabrics found by my roommate’s mother, hats passed down to me from my boyfriend’s family, and even skills shared to me from my grandma and cousin are woven into each hat, scarf, and mitten I wear. The next time I’m outside (which will be far too soon) I can feel a little bit warmer knowing the love and care I have with me as I scurry through yet another icy wind storm.
To take into our next week:
Ins: Chamomile tea (always), muted purples, actually interesting text books, aloe vera, hair pomade, perfectly fitted hoodies, overalls, a solid hug.
Outs: Nails that are too long, scorching soup, weird hoods on winter jackets, gel eye masks, ignoring when your feet are too sore, eating one too many anchovies straight out of the tin.
I hope everyone is bundling up in their favorite mittens and gators and earmuffs galore as we all try to survive these next few days of tundra. I task you all with finding and appreciating one another’s fanciful winter accessories as there are too few days when we get to wear all of them all at once!
