Honk, honk

Hey, man, let's go out cruising and pick up chicks! We can take my car!

If imagination is the art of combining things that you normally wouldn't think of combining, then my kids have imagination in spades!

Come, Sit a Spell

I was late again this morning. Had to go back for the camera. (One of these days, I ought to invest in a camera I can have with me all the time...)

It took a while to get this photo to come out as I actually saw it, but it was well worth the effort. Don't you just want to sit down here with someone in silence and listen to the falling leaves together?

A Foggy Mirror

If/when I ever move (the "if" there is a sign of something deep and disturbing to my former globe-trotting self) one of the things I'm going to miss is my daily commute to work. Five left turns, most of them within view of the lake. It's amazing how much variety there is in those 1.6 miles.

On the first cold snap in fall, I pretty much just assume that I'm going to get to work a little later than usual. The lake billows with clouds, and there's no hope for me but to go back around the block and fetch my camera.

Photos from two separate mornings:

Yes, this is scarcely a hundred feet from my front door. No, it's not Photoshopped. I do wish the bird had flown just a little bit closer, though. Then it would have been perfect.

At first, I wasn't sure what I was seeing as it floated out of the mist. After a minute, it became more obvious. It's hard to imagine a better morning for a nice paddle around the lake.

Pumpkins!

The Grace College Mu Kappa chapter invited us over for a bonfire and pumpkin carving. They invite us to quite a number of activities, but this is one that I don't miss if I can help it. It's fun to connect with recently-landed MKs, enjoy new fireside recipes, and, of course, carve pumpkins.

I'll give you a minute to figure it out.
Give up?
It's a gastropod with an iPod. OK, stop looking at me that way. You already knew I was a geek...

Fiona drew her design before we even left the house, and Deborah transferred it onto her pumpkin. Aiden's pumpkin is the result of his constantly changing the specs of what he wanted while we were carving. The third eye was the icing on the cake.

In related news, the third time was a charm, and I finally was able to make a harvest in my pumpkin patch of... one pumpkin! Now most people would be disappointed to have planted three years running and only get one fruit, but I'm excited to have finally gotten ONE! Maybe I'll do even better next year...

Thar she be. What shall I carve on this one?

A hundred! And then some!

Sometime this last week, I sent my one hundredth Eisenbrauns book cover to press. I suspected I was getting close to that mark, so I sat down witht he website to figure it out. It took a little bit of doing to determine, as I excluded the books that had been reprinted (and thus, sent to press again), books that a previous designer had started, and I finished (there are my book covers), covers I did for other publishers (these are Eisenbrauns book covers), and covers for books that haven't gone to press yet.

So. Wanna see?

This one was fun (well, technically, these two, since it's a two-volume set, with different colors) once I got a hang of what the editors wanted. That's the challenge: I've produced plenty of covers that I dearly loved, but that the editors, well, didn't. One learns to shrug and keep trying. It's also one of the few instances where a major typo made it onto the cover... in the title, no less. I now have someone else proofread my covers before I send them to press!

The artwork isn't mine, but the rest of the cover was.

These are, in fact, two separate books. They just look identical. Honest!

I've had this idea for cover type bouncing around my head for years. I finally got to use it on this cover, which sets the style for the rest of the series.

In academic circles, when an esteemed scholar or professor approaches the end of his/her career, you'll often see what's called a Festschrift, literally, a "party-writing," where colleagues and students will write articles in honor of said scholar. One hopes there are other, less cerebral celebrations involved, as well, but I wouldn't know. I just design the book covers. In this case, we have three volumes of articles by Nadav Na'aman, and a Festschrift for the same. Obviously, I figured all of them should have a common visual theme.

This is, if I'm not mistaken, one of the first covers I ever did.

The editor didn't appreciate my attempts to liven up the series design (left), so I had to go back to the original color scheme on the next volume (right).

The background on this one is a piece of soapstone that's been run through a bandsaw. I love the texture!

Sometime, I really ought to write up the process of bringing this cover into being. It would be... illuminating.

For many years, I was limited to two inks, for cost reasons. This series uses only two colors — orange, and blue. You wouldn't know by looking at it.

Oddly enough, this is one of my favorite covers. I'm not sure why.

One of the first instances where I created my own artwork for the cover, rather than using someone else's drawing or photograph.

A lot of people tell me this is their favorite cover. I like it too. The part I'm proudest of is that I managed to convey the idea of the Chaoskampf Theory (order-land arising from the chaos-sea) using only two colors and one repeated shape.

I found a guy on-line, Sven Geier, who does these amazing fractals, and lets anyone use them. This one fit the book amazingly well.

I had fun masking all those branches on the Tree of Life. I spent hours on that one...

Another cover people have told me they really like. Apparently, I do seascapes well.

One of my first "major" covers, in cloth and paperback. Those Persian warriors have since shown up in many. many places. One year, I suggested we make full-size cutouts of these guys, and have a place where you could put your head and poses as them. It was rejected because they thought people would actually do it...

From this river to that one...

...and these scholar to those kings.

I later asked what the provided graphic of pottery and plants had to do with the subject. I don't recall that anyone knew.

I had fun with this one, representing the "degrading social order" in the ancient near east in as close as I've ever gotten to "grunge" on an academic book cover.

An early favorite, and the first use (that I know of) of stock photography on Eisencovers.

Some things are Sacred. Some, doubly so.

Some people say this one's boring. Me? I love the type.

You can direct traffic with this cover.

The author (in good humor) complained that more people were complimenting him on the cover than on the book. Sorry, Tryggve! I'll make 'em uglier next time.

For once, it was appropriate to break out the funky typewriter fonts!

I put so much into this one. I created this beautiful epicrystallograph of a leaf I found in the yard, and then made up the word "Epicystallograph" (Greek, "writing against the glass") because "putting it on the scanner" just didn't communicate what I wanted. As people have since pointed out, making up words doesn't necessarily communicate, either. But, I still hold out some hope for my little neologism. I wished I could have used a metallic purple ink on this one — it would have given the leaf a sort of ethereal sheen — but I found out at the last minute that there's a heavy surcharge for using metallic inks. Bummer. I still love the way it came out, even if my vision was grander.

Here's another one where I really ought to write up the process of creation. I think the part that took the cake was when the editors insisted that, despite all the time I'd spent removing the text, they could definitely tell that it was from the gret Isaiah scroll from Qumran, and that they'd really prefer to have a section from the Pentateuch on there. Hence the addition of the fragment by the title...

Part of this cover involved a trip to the hardware store, and a puzzled clerk wondering what good three feet of rope was, and why I didn't want the ends dipped so that they wouldn't come apart.

Whew!

There's also a bunch where I frankly no longer remember if I did them or not:

...and a bunch I did for other publishers:

...as well as a bunch of catalog covers and such, but I'm not counting those categories here.

Looking over this list, I'm not sure what to think. This represents ten years of a small part of my life, and in retrospect, I can't honestly say if it's well-spent, mis-spent, or just... spent. While it has some lasting value (in the sense that it's been a way to keep a roof over our heads, and food on the table) there's nothing about any of this work that would outlast one good fire. In spite of that, I have to admit: I enjoyed it.

On to the next hundred!

Power from the Sea

As I was standing around fixing things — on average, I fix a toy per day; the washing machine makes a good workbench — Aiden brought his dinosaur flashlight to me.

"Daddy, can you fix my dinosaur flashlight?"

It's a wonderful flashlight; it roars when you turn it on, and it's constructed in such a way that a kid can't disassemble it — a fact that has occasionally made it the only working flashlight in the house. It just needed new batteries, but I didn't have any in the right size.

"I'm sorry Aiden, I don't have what I need to fix your flashlight right now."
"What do you need?"
"Two C-cells."
"There's some in the fishtank."
"There are batteries in the fishtank?" I prepared to panic.
"No," said Aiden, with exasperated patience, "there are seashells."

He was so sure he was being helpful, I hated to tell him that I just needed batteries!

Art that Speaks to You

Sometimes, you're just walking/riding/driving along, and art just calls out to you, by name. Sometimes, quite literally:

This guy obviously subscribes to the "If you can't make it good, make it big" theory.

Seriously. All that, on one train. And I didn't even look at the other side.

Deborah and I, with a certain amount of seriousness, describe graffiti on trains as "authentic urban art, direct from the nation's urban cultural epicenters, in a free traveling exhibit." Some of these guys have talent. I stood and looked at this one for quite a while:

Can you see the skate ramps?

And this one caught my attention, as well:

The amazing thing here is, along with his excellent use of color and shading (with a spray can!) the guy signed his name. Obviously, Mr. Jennigs either isn't worried about being prosecuted for his work, or he (rightly) wants credit for what he's done.

When was the last time you stopped and took a look at the art spoiling your town?

Throw Towel Here

I've started this message four times now, each time with a different intention — putting this blog on hiatus, quitting everything, rebooting life, running away — just to say something, or to say why I haven't said anything, to to rail against the need to say anything.

I'm not doing well. I feel an acute lack of time, energy, and creativity. It's no help as I'm heading into the most intense time of the year at work, with demands for daily manic creativity.

And now, I'm going to tell you something strange about myself.

I can tell roughly how bad off I am by the song that runs unbidden through my head each morning. As I am now, it's Third Day's King of Glory:

Who is this King of Glory that pursues me with his love
And haunts me with each hearing of His softly spoken words
My conscience, a reminder of forgiveness that I need
Who is this King of Glory who offers it to me

Who is this King of angels, O blessed Prince of Peace
Revealing things of Heaven and all its mysteries
My spirit's ever longing for His grace in which to stand
Who is this King of glory, Son of God and son of man

His name is Jesus, precious Jesus
The Lord Almighty, the King of my heart
The King of glory

...which isn't a bad song, not by any stretch of the imagination. (Video here, if you're curious.) It's just played in a way that sounds like a deep breath of longing, and restoration that is so desperately needed. And it is.

When things are truly awful, Leslie Phillips starts running through my head. Now, I normally wouldn't admit to even knowing anything about '80s Christian pop (*shudder*) but somehow this song still sticks with me:

I open my eyes to the sound of morning news
And wish for ten more minutes left to sleep
and as I get into the shower the thoughts of facing one more day
Overwhelm me and I begin to weep
And I've never felt like I've needed Your help, so bad

Bridge 1:*
And every day I look to you
To be the strength of my life
You're the hope I hold onto
Be the strength of my life

Chorus:
Be the strength of my life
Strength of my life Be the strength of my life today
Be the strength of my life Strength of my life
Be the strength of my life today

* It's been 25 years since I've heard this, any my mind has simplified it a bit by deleting a few verses. If you can stand the sound of a 1985 camcorder ported to YouTube, you can get an idea of what the song sounded like here.

What I find remarkable is the unbidden nature of it, its consistency, and the fact that it's usually just what I need. And what I need, apparently, is to be drawn back to Jesus — who is this King of Glory, pursuing me with His love.