baby raccoon, transmundane Tuesday, decrepit mansion
Hi Top Down Low
Well, somehow it’s August. My Astoria neighbors have a baby raccoon named Hi Top Down Low. He was discovered - orphaned and emaciated - in someone’s yard. They nursed him back to health by feeding him liquid cat food from a plastic syringe and now he’s an Astoria personality, deservedly so.
Colin left yesterday on a Decemberists tour that was scheduled for August of 2020, rescheduled for August of 2021, and rescheduled again for August of 2022. It didn’t seem like he’d ever really go on this tour, but he did. He’ll be gone for a month, which feels like such a long time. I guess I’ve gotten soft. If you see him out there on the road, tell him he’s cool and I miss him.
Today is the first Tuesday of the month and you know what that means. Or maybe you don’t. In that case, you can read all about it here.
Briefly: I choose some drawing prompts at random; we (you, me, anyone) draw them; and, if we want to, we share our art on instagram using hashtags. It’s called Transmundane Tuesdays.
Here are your prompts for the month of August:
Arts & Entertainment
Did any of you paint along with that gouache demo I shared a few weeks ago? Six year old Indiana did and I think we can all agree this is beautiful:
As for me, I finished up a few July projects - a couple of posters and a t-shirt design - and I’m not taking on anything else until Colin gets home at the end of the month. Old, pre-pandemic Carson met deadlines while solo parenting in the summertime. New Carson is too soft.
The George George
I’m grateful for the relative cool weather and rad community of Astoria, Oregon lately. That place has been filling my cup. Alix Jo Ryan and I spent some time drawing a beloved Astoria mansion last week.
It’s known as the George George. Which seems like a silly name, until you google it and discover that it was built by a guy named George George. It’s actually a very accurate name and the silliest person in this scenario is his mom for naming him that.
I hope you northern hemispherers are surviving the heat, and whatever else you’re endeavoring to survive. Love and fortitude to the artist parents out there who won’t get to make much time for it until school starts back up in the fall. Augusts are always a little rough for me, but they also brim with magic and promise. I try to remind myself that summer is about freedom and my kids won’t be kids forever.
Until next time,
P.S. Video also by Alix.
Slowpoke is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.