Death and Dying in My Society
Or Why October Is A Shitty Month For Me In October of this year I put my cat Screeechy down for the last time. She was almost 21. She’d been in physical and mental decline for awhile. In retrospect looking hard at the fact that cats cannot speak English or any other human language…
Small Wall Space :: Boll Weevil + Sugarbabe
I’ve been fooling around with typesetting my favorite banjo tunings. I love letters. I taste type. I finger fonts. These are two tests for what I am planning will grow into a cache of images to print on an old press. I’m titling each one after the tune I love to play in the…
Small Wall Space
cuz our money needs watchin! I picked up this postcard from Bettina Hubby’s Eagle Rock Rock and Eagle Shop. It’s a an art piece of hers that’s a collaboration, a curation, a collection; that’s a store, an inside joke, a vexation; that’s from an idea that two artists had long ago. Bettina is really…
A Gloomy May Day needed some sun…
…so I was inspired to make this for a post about this year’s Los Angeles Old Time Social Cakewalk!
Solo Set
Tonight, for the first time as an old time player and first time in many years since I’ve been making music. Nervous, excited, and most importantly, ready.
Portfolio::Graphic Design
Since ending my position as Operations Facilitator of the Bicycle Kitchen in November, I have been focusing on honing my graphic design chops in other contexts like those represented here. I may post examples of the design work I did while opsfacking (as I affectionately call it) at La Bicicocina, too. I’m constantly being…
Small Wall Space
No. 1 of 9, untitled lithographic print by Kelly Marie Martin The results of a 4-day printmaking workshop with the amazing artist, Daniel González. He taught us to linocut and to print using his press, Brutus. I used the workshop as a way to create a calaveras for a design project I am working…
Small Wall Space
My cousin, Jonas sent this to me from Stockholm–a quote from Keats. I love that you can see more writing beneath, but what floats there to the top is this promise, his promise. I hang it as a reminder to myself from myself.
Triple Chicken Foot in the LA Times
written by Jenn Garbee