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?
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.
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?
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!
