Month: January 2026

Yum! Un Repas Succulent

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today’s card is a favorite that has been in my pile clamoring for attention. This by the artist Maurice Boulanger who was one of the heirs apparent to the Louis Wain throne. (I wrote about another one in my collection recently and that post can be found here.) Here we have not the chef kitty, but instead a bibbed-up consumer cat served up this very large rodent, albeit unadorned by trimmings, on a platter. Mr. Rodent hardly looks deceased, but we will assume he is. Kitty is toothy and anxious to dive right in it seems.

Boulanger cats have a Wain-esque tendency toward an anthropomorphic wackiness, but they seem to not to be as sly and are less of a commentary on human nature, more feline in a way. This grinning fellow clearly has a ferocious appetite and can’t wait to dive into munching on this rat on display atop this dish, from whiskers to the tip of the tail. He stands on two feet and wears a bib (which probably covers a white bib of tabby design fur no less) but only his paws are in evidence – we imagine just teeth and claws in play. No human utensils for him. Below this dish at the bottom it declares, Un Repas Succulent – A Delicious Meal. Or in my mind the more descriptive, a succulent repast!

Obviously, this is a French postcard for all intents and purposes as I believe that the writing across the front and the back is in French – although the postcard actually appears to have Eastern European produced. (If anyone wants to take a stab at translating the message I would love to have a sense of what is written here.) And as is often the case, the neat scribble on the front adds to the decorative element. It was mailed to an address in Paris in March of 1906, but I can’t read much else from the cancellation. Again, the small, neat writing on the back escapes my rudimentary translation skills.

Reverse side of card – can anyone out there read and translate this?

For those of you in the same neck of the woods as us at Deitch Studio, you know that at the time of writing this it is the end of another frigid week of weather in New York City. Although I can think of several equally impressive snowstorms, I cannot remember one where it stayed so cold that that snow just didn’t go anywhere and here we reside a week later in piles that are still knee high, garbage piling up even higher where trucks cannot get it. (Speaking of rats!) The City makes attempts to dispose of the snow manually while Mother Nature continues to deliver a bit more here and there.

Clearly, we will have one of those spring thaws where things long buried will emerge on the streets. The temperature in the early morning and the nights hovers in the single digits and dips well below zero with the wind. The (blissful) heat in the apartment runs constantly and despite being 1.5 small rooms I expect the bill to be high. The cost of heating the house in New Jersey, even without us there, is a bit staggering this year. Meanwhile, the heat in my office is oddly mercurial and reduced substantially by an ill-conceived wall of windows so it has been a very chilly week indeed and I hunker down with a mug of hot coffee to write this.

All this to set the stage to talk about the wonders that hot food can manifest in this weather. Recent weeks has seen me doubling down on soups and stews. (I shared a miso based soup recipe recently – you can find the post here.) We don’t eat meat, so pots of bubbling beans and tofu make up the stews along with whatever greens or leftovers in the fridge need cooking up. Each one tends to come out different for that reason – black beans seem to be the winner recently, although the chickpea curries are gaining ground. There is a simply wonderful spicy chili crisp tofu recipe that I retrieved from the New York Times (it can be found here at the time of writing) which has become a bit of a staple.

Last week I had a yen for a brothier soup after lots of thick ones and threw together one I will make again. Roughly it was ginger, garlic, onion, and carrots to start with two containers of vegetable broth, some miso, a small can of diced tomatoes and flat leaf parsley and finished with a package of cheese tortellini added at the end. I let it simmer all afternoon on the stove and really, it was heavenly! This week I am experimenting with a simple potato leek soup a friend makes but boy – last week’s soup will go into a regular rotation.

Soup and stew, hot food in general, the ability to make it, afford it and eat it, is a blessing especially in the cold weather. As I mentioned a few weeks ago, the very act of making it calms and reassures me. Hot meals for the cold week ahead. Lower perhaps in pure protein than this feline repast but will fill us up and keep us going nonetheless.

Stormy

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Perhaps not surprising as a large swath of the country buckles down to what could be the most substantial snowfall of many years, that this photo (just in the door from my friend @marsh.and.meadow via Instagram) should be top of my pile for today.

Mounted and undated, other than a bit of damage at its edges it is in good shape. It seems it was a treasured photo despite it being overexposed, although somehow it works with the effect of the snow. This little boy is wearing the kind of long coat I think of more for an adult, but I guess he maneuvered on his sled just find nonetheless. (I bought a very long down coat this year to replace one I have been wearing for decades. It has zippers in the side so I can actually walk in it or keep it zipped all around in terrible cold. I can’t image it on a sled though.) He wears a cheery sort of beret and sort of has the look of a race car driver standing next to his beloved vehicle which is why I purchased it.

Early morning view out the window of the apartment this morning.

He has a very elaborate sled. Better is painted on the side but I cannot read the rest and there is more – it is obscured by a sort of jointed wooden handle – perhaps to steer? How would that work? The top of this sled is made of wooden planks – it all looks very heavy for a sled. The runners are the carved bottom. I think you would need some heavy snow to take advantage of this design. Growing up we were the generation that moved from the traditional wood with red metal runners to dishes of metal or plastic which picked up great speed, even in less snow. Growing up near the ocean and a river it was frequently a bit too warm for much snow to hang around.

This card came from the Midwest and they do generally know something about snow out there. I am not sure if that is a house or a barn behind him, behind a fence. Skeletons of denuded winter tress are visible and it is snowing as the photo was taken, white dots on his dark clothes, gathering still all around. (As it is out my window right now – a complete white out here on the 16th floor, looking north.)

Snow at the house in Jersey last weekend.

Last Sunday I was in New Jersey and shoveling some of it in the evening. Monday dawned to an unusually pretty day of snow – everyone was talking about how picture perfect it was. It was a holiday for many including from school and provided ample opportunity for sledding down a very large hill near my house which I drove past. A pretty church, aptly named Tower Hill, sits at the top. I’ve run up that hill and it is steep! Perfect for sledding however. Growing up, it was a bit too far for us to get a ride two towns over, so I think I ever sledded there once or twice and when I was older. It would have seemed like Everest as a little kid. I want to say my folks drove us to a hill near my grandmother in a town called Long Branch, but I don’t remember where really.

Tower Hill Church, the slope continues down about three times as far as what is shown here – unobstructed and perfect for sledding.

Living near the ocean and between twin rivers, it was frequently too warm for snow to stay around long. Snowstorms also often caused flooding which meant water (river water) on the ground rather than snow and certainly not driving anywhere. Therefore, the perfect sledding snow day was a bit rarified. Here in Manhattan we have sledding hills in Central Park and even a small one here near me in Carl Schurz park. I bet the kids are heading over even early this morning although maybe everyone being kept inside while it is coming down so hard.

Weirdly when I watch the Winter Olympics I have a vague yearning to try the luge and skeleton. There is a place in upstate New York for training and the thought always tempts me, no idea why that particular sport speaks to me. My girl cat Cookie likes to watch it with me – television interests her and anything zipping around like that is a bonus. I was born in a blizzard (and as a February baby I also have many snowy birthday memories of plans canceled or adjusted for the celebration) so maybe it was born into me.

Meanwhile, at work we will likely be the only animal hospital open and our vets and techs who come from a broad swath of the tri-state area will have trouble getting in, but of course animals will still need us. Most of the interns and residents are a bit closer – we provide some housing not far from the hospital. It is a bit sad for me that my first thoughts about snow are practical about slippery sidewalks and shoveling at the house, getting to work and losing power – instead of fun and beauty. I will try to repair my sense of wonder, dream about fast sleds and do some cozy cooking and at home projects.

Quarter

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I believe I recently mentioned in passing that most days Kim walks to work with me. This started after a nice summer of a lot of walking and the desire to keep the good habit up. My morning walk is from 86th Street to 62nd, right down First Avenue or York. Often I walk home as well, weather permitting, but it is rare that I don’t walk in the morning as the subway is too far and the bus down York is slow and crowded. It’s something between 4-5 miles roundtrip.

Kim walks to about 68th Street before turning back to get on with his day working in the apartment. I finish the walk and end with a stop at a deli on 62nd`where I generally get a breakfast sandwich and fill a small thermos (glorified travel cup – I wrote about it last week here) with coffee. The bodega is called Space Market and at first I wondered what was always turning up on my credit card bill that way. I talked to a friend who worked in the area decades ago and it turns out that Space has been there a long time. It is neat and clean and they play rather remarkable jazz – not the early music I prefer but still, some very interesting and good contemporary jazz. It is some sort of list or play loop but very long before I ever heard it repeat. Someone knowledgeable person has put it together very lovingly.

In the beginning while I was finding my rhythm I experimented with buying lunch there but really a sandwich was too expensive. Eventually I shifted to bringing leftovers for lunch, never having found an affordable option in the neighborhood. However, their perch less than a block from my office makes it my go to for breakfast – and I am not alone, I see much of the hospital staff there. I have a regular order (one egg over medium on a toasted English muffin) and now all I need to do is nod at the grill guy and he gets it ready.

Well-meant but also unfortunate other portraits from the series.

The woman behind the register changes periodically. For a long time there was an extremely cheerful young woman who asked about my jewelry and chatted about all sorts of things. I was sad to see her go. They have had trouble replacing her and recently I got the wrong sandwich (scrambled eggs on an everything bagel with hot sauce!) and on another day a batch of coffee which was undrinkable. I am a creature of habit but I’ve started eyeing other establishments if they can’t pull up their socks a bit.

Most days Kim and I are chatted about the day ahead, the story he is working on or the meetings I have, or something else entirely like a television show he watched as a kid or how some dogs greet each other on the sidewalk. (New York City has a lot of dog on the street activity and since I took this job my dog awareness has been heightened.) Sometimes though we are both mulling the day ahead to ourselves and yesterday was more one of those.

Kim is the one who usually stops to pick coins or more often interesting bits of metal off the street. He has a large (and it seems still growing) collection of metal washers, organized by size and thickness, which lives in our bathroom for some reason. Most often though it is interesting heavy screws or metal bits, copper is a bonus, and this practice is hell on his pockets. However yesterday it was I who happened to have eyes on the ground and spotted a shiny bit.

I stopped in my tracks (always a bit dangerous to stop short on a busy sidewalk here) and picked it up. I was rewarded with a rather mint looking Anna May Wong quarter! Kim and I have been very curious about these since their issue in 2022 and have yet to run across one. While the design seems a bit unsatisfactory (unflattering) the concept carries it. It would appear, depending on the particulars of your quarter and condition, that it is valued at something between 30 cents and $1000 – although on the higher end I would say asking is not getting. (Nor does ours display any visible printing malfunctions that would increase its value.)

Still from Pavement Butterfly.

As most Pictorama readers probably know, the actress. Born on January 3, 1905 she rose to fame in silent film as a rare Asian American leading lady. While her early films like Toll of the Sea (1922, it can be found here) allowed her to make her way into film, it was the later many sound films from the 1930’s with titles like Dangerous to Know (’38)and Island of Lost Men (’39) that she is best remembered for. Recently Kim and I had a chance to see a little available German silent, Großstadtschmetterling or Pavement Butterfly (’29), with English subtitles and her true range as an actress is on display. Sadly it is only available online in German at the time of writing this. As per a Wikipedia synopsis: A Chinese dancer in the nightclubs of Paris, becomes involved with a Russian painter and becomes his model. She is persecuted by a man named Coco, accused of theft. Later, in the French Riviera she is at last able to prove her innocence. Don’t miss it if you have a chance to see it.

Another still of Anna May Wong from Pavement Butterfly.

The Anna May Wong quarter, a part of a series honoring American women of note, was the final release on October 25, 2022. Others honored included Dr. Sally Ride (first woman in space) and Maya Angelou in somewhat equally unflattering portraits. Years ago there was a series of quarters which did a tribute to each state and the art was far superior. I often stopped to admire one and I kept Vermont and Tennessee for a long time I liked them so much. Not all, but some, were like little works of art.

I remembered Vermont as a cabin but I do remember this. Can’t find the cabin imagery I remember though!

So it is more in tribute to Anna May Wong and her skill as an actress that this find enters the Pictorama collection today and we consider it a bit of a find.

New Brunswick, NJ

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: I grabbed this up as soon as I saw this little collaged beauty. I am not sure that I immediately digested the weirdness of it entirely but being a Jersey girl at heart I thought it was pretty hotsy totsy. Like many recent posts it came from the postcard show last fall and it went into a pile I am only recently digging into.

Born and bred in the Garden State I admit that I may never have so much as driven through New Brunswick. Looking at the map of the state I must have (may have?) as it is nestled in the crook of the state, just above Monmouth County, heading north and a smidge west. This sounds a bit odd but we didn’t drive west all that often growing up. North of course took you to New York but generally we went up the coast. South brought you to Freehold which seemed to be required occasionally; Princeton where my sister went to school, and ultimately Philadelphia on occasion – we had a cousin there. I rarely made it to the bottom corner of the state, probably not until college and after.

For those of you who don’t have the map of the state handy in your head.

The northwest of the state was a rare event. Flemington is up there (I have a friend who moved there recently – hey Hope!), where I can remember going only a few times – it felt exotic. Even our forays into Pennsylvania were usually made by going more south or directly across the state. Years ago I spent some time hiking with a friend along the beautiful Delaware water gap. Christine grew up in that area and knew it well but it was the first time I spent much time there. All this to say that New Brunswick always sat slightly north and west of where I had my formative years and somehow I never much got there or maybe knew if I did. It belongs in a vague category of North Jersey that I would have used when I lived there.

This card is hometown proud indeed. A rendering of a pansy has a collaged-on head and shoulders of a woman in turn-of-the-century finery, wearing a be-ribboned or flower covered hat. She wears the pansy petals like a dress and on each petal is a local building of note shown as actual postcards of significant sites on each petal. They are: Washington public school, Livingstone Avenue High School, St. Peters Parochial School, Carnegie Library, and the Post Office. Clearly they thought highly of their educational institutions.

New Brunswick Carnegie Public Library, in a contemporary but undated photo.

The Carnegie Library, shown above, seems to be the only one that is definitely unaltered. I’m on the fence about the post office, shown below, which could be the same building from another angle and with different things around it obviously. The schools have long been replaced (or in the case of the parochial school possibly disappeared) by newer structures. (My own high school in Rumson still exists intact with its old building but a certain amount of building on has happened. You can still see the bones of it however.)

The Post Office in New Brunswick – I believe it is the one shown in the postcard. The windows are the same.

Someone has written the initials JHB in the lower right, under Greetings from New Brunswick, NJ. On the back, also written in pencil it says Miss Ethel Hardy, 5 John Street, City. However, it was never mailed and it is incomplete. Another version of the card I found online was mailed in 1908 according to a cancellation mark.

The card was published by Hammel Bros., New Brunswick, NJ. It was made (printed) in Austria however. Hammel Brothers, not surprisingly, seemed to special in cards of a local nature in New Brunswick, NJ, although I do wonder how they would have made a business out of that bit of limited fame and for how long. They have not left many tracks and mostly there are references to a brewery of a similar name and time in New Mexico.

As you read this I will be packing up and heading to New Jersey this morning. As per yesterday’s post, there is snow on the ground (more overnight and a fair amount coming down now) and still a bit more throughout the day, hopefully in a desultory sort of way. Anyway, a tip of the hat to my home state and the undiscovered treasure of New Brunswick from a time passed.

Expecting Snow

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Here in New York we are anticipating snow on and off over the next few days. I head back to New Jersey tomorrow and vaguely see a snow shovel in my future. I don’t think we believe it will be especially heavy so my shoveling will, hopefully, remain nominal.

I do think if shoveling becomes a regular part of my future I need to consider my tools a bit better. I have an extremely standard issue snow shovel at the house. Recently I was reading an article in the New York Times Wirecutter section where they recommended the one below and am considering it. (If you want to purchase it, you too can here. It awaits in my Amazon queue for now.)

The possible future of my snow shoveling life.

Seems like a nominal investment and I may try it – Wirecutter rarely if ever steers me wrong. Notably to date I have a space heater (two really, I bought a second) in New Jersey that I love. It kept Kim nice and toasty in our drafty upstairs over the holidays and I keep one in the kitchen for cold mornings. Also after some bad spills and cups that barely keep things warm, I invested in a thermos they recommended which carries my to-the-office cup of coffee daily. It is splendid! It was expensive as these things go but has an excellent lock top and the coffee stays so piping hot that I pour it into a mug to drink it. (If this is of interest you can purchase it on Amazon here. At $35 it is more than the snow shovel!)

Real admiration function of this thermos.

Among the other things Wirecutter has contributed to our lives are: our couch, a magnetic shelf for the side of my fridge, a similar holder for knives and an external battery for my phone. I’m not sure they have ever given me a bum steer. Therefore, a $30 investment of a new ergonomic snow shovel may well be in my future. Meanwhile there was so much snow in our area over the holidays that all the stores were sold out of pet-safe salt substitute for the walk and driveway. I ordered a bucket of it from Amazon finally; it arrived after we left but should be waiting for me.

This is my roundabout way of getting to this nice little photo which came to me as a holiday card from my friend at that excellent antique store down in Dallas, Texas I purchase from, Sandi Outland at Curiosities (aka @curiositiesantique). I’m sure if I ever make it to Dallas I will spend several happy hours searching their shelves and cases, but Sandi does a good job of keeping me abreast of what I might like. (Posts of purchase from Curiosities can be found here and most recently here for starters, but there are many.) I also fantasize that one of these days we’ll meet up for an antique shopping fest at something like Brimfield. I think we’d have a rather superb time. Huge shoutout to her for sending us this photo card this season!

Sandi picked this photo and made the card, adding the tiniest bit of glitter to it – it may not even be visible in the picture I have taken. It does give it just a bit of sparkle which Kim and I liked. Sandi is a collector of grumpy snowman pics – she sent props for this one below I wrote about recently. I suspect that may have been in mind when she chose this one for us.

This picture shows a less than glorious snow fall on the ground, the kind I feel like I largely grew up with. The true, deep, sledding, snowman building snows were few and memorable really. (When I go to New Jersey tomorrow I will look for some snow photos from my childhood – they are quite disorganized there however I am afraid. I know of one where our German Shepard is catching a snowball in her mouth though.) More often you had about two or three inches like this, enough for a few meagre snowballs (as evidenced by this little boy and girl who each hold one), but not much more – enough to sock your sibling once, twice at most. Probably not enough for a snow day from school, definitely not enough for a decent size snowman. Still, as an adult it brings back a sort of visceral memory from childhood.

The big tree and the bare earth create a good composition for this photo. The little boy draws us all the way to the front while the barren trees not quite in focus behind the girl create a sense of depth, little girl front and center in the middle ground. Kids clothes being what they are I’m unsure of when it might have been taken. Really it could be any time from the 40’s into the 50’s would be my guess.

As I type, snow has started to fall here as predicted. I think it may turn to rain before turning back to snow, but we’ll see where temperatures are as the day progresses. Kim and I are scheduled for a stroll down to Orwasher’s for our first weekly purchase of bread since we returned to Manhattan. It isn’t a hard snow, and at most I think we’ll end up with that 2-3 inches on the ground this weekend. I’ll manage with the old shovel just fine.

Jack and the Giant Kitty

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: It seems only fair to launch 2026 with Pictorama’s best foot forward so today I share a tatty but wonderful Louis Wain card to help set the tone.

As always, it is impossible to entirely follow Wain’s train of thought. While we all know Jack and the Beanstalk, what might have possessed him on a given day to make a one off cat version? Hard to say, however I will share that frequently as Kim and I go through the world, he pops with one-off ideas that could be one or two page comic strips but because of the nature of his work (long, complex stories) he will likely never use. We might blow them out a bit while we’re walking but know they are unlikely to ever go anywhere. For example I pointed out the other day (we were discussing the idea of a short piece about the orderly way he tends to eat food – I call him a largely linear eater) and he took it down the line a bit of how it could be a comic. That would be if he had a weekly deadline, like back in the days of papers like New York Press, and then he’d be using them all.

Anyway, I imagine Louis Wain, at least at one protracted point in his career, was just grasping at every single idea and utilizing it. Either that or his brain just overflowed with them. Hard to say. (I have happily embraced writing about Louis Wain, his life and work, via a number of items which can be found here, here and most recently here for starters.)

Wain is in his full glory in this card. His humanoid-ish giant cat wields a bread knife with a small potpie in front of him and an oversized mug (stein?) which tiny (rat-sized) sword wielding kitty hides behind. (Would the giant be less dangerous if he had a larger pot pie? Just asking.) The giant has a three-prong fork grasped (awkwardly) in his other fat, white tipped paw. It is a formal table setting and another fork and spoon are in front of his pie. There is a lit candle and, sort of funny, a salt cellar and pepper shaker to his right, our left. A potted plant on a doily is on the other side which is sort of a funny middle-class household look. You can almost imagine Wain added that touch from his own tabletop.

Early Wain post from ’18. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.

The giant and Jack are both brown tabbies – a coloring I am not sure is prevalent in the real world of cats. (Putting Bengals aside as I don’t think they were known at that time.) Giant bully kitty has his ears back (same color as the tapestry design covering the back of his substantial throne-like chair so they blend a bit) in a very real annoyed feline fashion. His fangy toothies show in his whiskered grin, but it is the look of merry mayhem in his eyes that tell the tale! Yep, he sees Jack and he’s thinking a bit of extra protein on the run for today.

Meanwhile, we only see Jack from the back, tiny sword in hand. As noted, he is a slightly darker odd brown version of a similar tabby stripe. He’s sort of portly (hang-y kitty tummy) to be our hero – usually portrayed as a kid or in this case kitten. At the top right it just says, The “Louis Wain” Series. Bottom left says, Jack the Giant Killer and Louis Wain. This card is a bit grimy and found its way to me with some folds – there are indentations (although not holes) which might mean it displayed somewhere – hence the grime but also the survival.

The back sports a somewhat illegible postmark but I can make out April 19 and 1907. This was sent in the United States (most I have seen were sent in Britain) and addressed to Miss Miriam Hall, Bangor, ME 395 Center Street. He writes, Dear Miriam, What do to you think of these Pussies? Papa. I think that’s what it says – Pussies looks more like Jussies though. (However, to go off on a bit of a sidebar – have any of you seen the articles about how the post office is no longer saying that mail will be postmarked on the day it is picked up? It is now going to sorting centers where it will be postmarked before distribution, hence days later. So much for a world where there were AM and PM postmarks!)

Back of card.

Despite the card having been mailed in the United States, it was printed in Great Britain by the ever popular Raphael Tuck & Sons company of Wain fame. The card, it is noted, was designed in Britain and chromographed in Germany. It also bears the indicia that Tuck was the fine art publisher to their majesties the King and Queen, and to TRH the Prince and Princess of Wales.

This jolly card joins a growing subset of Wain cards in my collection. Whatever else that can be said about Mr. Wain, more than 100 years later, he always puts a smile on my face.

Still Young

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: The year is still young enough flash this New Year card, found in the pile on my desk back here in our New York HQ at Deitch Studio. We made the trek back, cats tucked unhappily in their carriers, a few days ago, this past Wednesday. A food delivery (love ya Fresh Direct) will arrive in a bit. After spending the morning with you all here at Pictorama, I will finish unpacking us, break down a bunch of boxes that we moved art supplies and food in, and life will slowly resume its Manhattan manifestation until the summer when the whole crew will decamp again. I will of course be in New Jersey periodically looking in on the Jersey Five (cats) and continuing my efforts to convert Peaches to a pet-able house cat.

Like almost everyone around me, I have started the New Year with a bad cold which is hanging on tenaciously. Meanwhile, Blackie seems a bit morose which leaves us scratching our heads – we know he doesn’t miss the other cats there. Was his spot on a chair in the sun that nice? Or under another chair and near a heat vent? He’s eating but carrying an expression of world weariness. He hisses at Cookie as if he never met her before – something he does when we return to the apartment.

Okay, onto the postcard! I don’t know how I missed this brilliant card when piling up ones for New Jersey, but I did and I cannot wait a whole year to share it. This one has weirdly wonderful all over it. It wasn’t cheap but it was among some items I considered a bit of a bargain when purchased last fall.

I am a longstanding sucker for a good moon face and this one certainly qualifies; I could not ask for better. What really kills me is the weird little skirt-wearing body they have attached it too. (Is the moon a woman?) Weird nebulous feet on sort of fat baby-esque legs and the amorphous body is finished off with hands that look like they belong to yet something else. That moon head just floats though and is more substantial so at first you don’t put it together with the body, but then you do and chuckle!

The cheeky cherubs, in the arms of the moon, have a champagne bottle, held by one while the other toasts (or is it offering the glass to the moon?) with a glass full of bubbly. Dark clouds fill an even darker blue green sky behind them. Because it is dark it is hard to see but this card is lightly embossed, the cherubs in the highest relief but the clouds are gently shaped too, the moon’s dress also in low relief giving it texture. It wishes us A Happy New Year at the bottom in an Arts and Crafts writing so decorative it takes a minute to read it.

Back of card – what is the aunt’s name?

This card is postmarked on December 30, 1907, from somewhere in Pennsylvania; the town is illegible. To the best of my ability to read the brown ink script it says: Hello! Auntie: – How you feeling by this time red’d your letter this morning am very glad your roommate studys [sic] harmony once in a while. Your niece Ethel. It is address to Miss Grace Mangst, Warrin. Ohio D.M.J. No maker mark is in evidence on the card – which is too bad because these folks had something going on. I don’t usually hang seasonal cards but this one’s a gem.

Cover of upcoming book.

Of course the big 2026 news here at Deitch Studio is Kim’s book, How I Make Comics is coming out in April. It is on pre-order – find it here. We find ourselves already deeply immersed in how to help launch this book. In the service of promoting it, I am toying with doing a podcast where Kim and I will talk about the origins of the stories and his history in comics. As I have previously with other intimidating projects (I know nothing about recording and editing), I share this with you all to help keep me honest about working on it. However, I am also asking you to weigh in on the idea. Is it a good one? Will folks listen? Or should I keep to my tip tap typing? Please weigh in below or leave a comment.

A New Year

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: This year the New Year brought a lousy head cold which I am only just recovering from. It was fairly well timed for a day or so of laying around and reading which arguably is what I should have been doing under any circumstances. The novels are largely not worth mentioning – a rom com about a woman who finds she is dating an android (I thought it had more possibilities than it delivered) and Buckeye which seems to be everyone’s novel of the moment – deservedly. It is very good and fair to say it is sort of an instant classic. (Sadly I am still looking for my next Rosa Mulholland fix. Prior posts about those books can be found here and here. I have read a few since then and owe you all an update.)

Cookie up in Kim’s studio.

Cold notwithstanding this has been a nice holiday visit to NJ. Cookie has made progress and now comes down the stairs to look at first floor activity. She sits in a chair in Kim’s studio like a little queen, much better adjusted to her NJ surroundings than she used to be.

Peaches, we have an ongoing dialogue these days about trying to be a better kitty.

Peaches, our very asocial girl – aka the meanest cat in the world – is make surprising progress in her relation to humans and other cats. I have tried having long conversations with her about this and she listens carefully. She now is willing to sit on a towel near my chair even if I cannot actually pet her. (She’s also showed us how, when atop another chair, she chases her tail in a frenzy – and she has tried, less successfully, to steal food from her very large sibling, Beau. I have written Peaches story here if you want to read it.)

Kim’s page – hot off the press, or perhaps still on it!

Shown above, Kim is working on a spectacular pencil for his next story. It speaks for itself! (Check out that polar bear! And the snow!) He is making good use of his time here.

Comic book store.

We’ve paid a visit to the comic book store and, obviously given yesterday’s post, to the Red Bank Antique Annex. I also purchased this very nice camel (in photo at the top and which is part of a Christmas set – I will likely keep him in my cabinet year round however) and a nice Santa shown here too. Red Bank was pleasantly decked out in small town holiday mode with lights – although you also get to see Macy’s just before the holiday, snapped on my way to the train on one of the days I commuted into the city.

Macy’s during my commute in right before Christmas.

Kim and I had a cozy lunch that day at a favorite place I have written about before, Dublin House. This is an old Victorian house which has been converted to a restaurant and bar. Originally built in neighboring Middletown, it was moved across the river to Red Bank back in 1840. It was first rehabilitated back in 1971 as a ice cream parlour and restaurant. The current owners purchased it in 2004 and turned it into a rather authentic Irish enclave. (Kim and I can vouch for the “Irish nachos” which are cheesy greatness on homemade chips – yum!) There is a fireplace in the small dining room which makes it perfect for a frosty day. In the summer, door-sized windows open to outside dining on a porch and outside area. Some original details remain such as the windows shown here.

Interior of Dublin House earlier last week.

As I write there is a huge cat dust up in Kim’s studio – Blackie skulking up the stairs to give his sister Cookie a hard time. Kim is being referee but maybe some extra food might make Blackie less adventurous.

View from the car driving to the train one morning in darkness with Red Bank’s twinkle lights.

We had enough snow during this visit that I shoveled the walk and driveway twice, but was sick and skipped the most recent dusting. Luckily snow melt from a prior shoveling was still doing its job. It is a snowy winter compared to last year when we didn’t have any to memory.

Christmas display at the Antique Annex.

Kim and I had a little project of hanging some things up. You might remember these from prior posts – they have made their way here for permanent relocation. I also have the great Louis Wain sheet that I purchased and framed a few months ago. Heavy as it is, I am waiting for help to put that up. However, in addition to yesterday’s pig painting, we hung an interesting black cat piece from England and several photos that I purchased here for the house. The house is slowly acquiring a more distinctive Pictorama appearance.

So, well enough to make a grocery run today, I am going to leave off and go get dressed. We leave in the middle of the week so it will be an NYC post the next time you hear from me!

A Pig Painting for Pam

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Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today I am kicking off the New Year with a special pig painting post. Kim and I bought this painting (he bought it for me) the day after Christmas while prowling here at the Red Bank Antique Annex.

I wonder if it had just been put on display recently or if I had just never really looked up and at it before. (I have written about trips to this enclave of shops in a post most recently here.) It was on a wall with a jumble of other paintings, but it caught my eye this time and we snatched it up.

These three paintings above pulled off of Facebook, people looking for information and verification that these are his. I vote a resounding yes to the first; scratch my head a bit on the second (although there is something of him in it); and vote a likely yes to the third. Sorry I can’t do better on the photos!

It is signed by the artist, Louis H. Clawson, and datde 1961. A quick internet search brought him up the other day, but now the results are a bit more brief which makes me wonder if the other was conflating him with several other artists with similar names. Not surprisingly he was a regional painter and of some note and he is lightly collected today. However, as I add tidbits to the AI search it becomes more clear that we are talking about this artist.

Signature on my painting.
This may be a cyanotype of him, comes up on the page about him but no information.

I seem to have identified with some certainty that he died on July 1, 1963. Something comes up with a July 15, 1881 date for a date of birth (to a Jesse Clawson) which works with the date of death but again I can’t quite confirm. He also appears to have married Leora Gertrude Hammond on May 25, 1910. they had a son and a daughter.

He is associated with living in and painting Fayett, Columbia County which appears to be in Indiana, although SW Pennsylvania came up first. Although an artist identification Facebook page says he was of some national note, I am unable to find much more than this about him. Clearly he was a landscape painter and he may or may not have also painted portraits – I only have the clown above to go by which is not a ringing endorsement. I believe that he was trained at the National Academy of Design (probably the National Academy of Art) in New York City. His forte seems to have been covered bridges, although regional landscape in general. His period of (relative) popularity seems to be the 1930’s.

Covered bridge painting as below. Substantially earlier than mine which was done shortly before his death.

One Facebook entry from Kathy Lynne Brandenburg Harmon shows a covered bridge painting above. (I gather he was sort of known for those) and writes the following:

I have this painting done by L H Clawson.  Probably done around 1930.  It is a covered bridge on State road 44.  The top of the hill is my grandfather Will Goss’ farm , lower left is the home of the Jesop’s (the taffy family). I can’t find out too much about his works but I spoke with the owner of the antique store by the Daniel Girls Farm restaurant  and told me that he was a relatively known artist of landscapes.  I would love to know more.

Next to mine I like these best and would think these are definitely by him. I’d have grabbed these too.

None of his other paintings seem to have an interesting homemade frame like mine which definitely adds to its appeal. (Actually, hard to see but the second painting of the two above might have one but I can’t quite make it out.) It does leave me wondering a bit if he made it or someone else but it seems to be so much a part of it that I defer to thinking it was him. The painting is on masonite board, not especially heavy, even with this frame. For me this painting is mostly about these hogs, although for Kim it is, in part, the painting of the foliage which seems to be something he did employ and excel at. The composition, with the winding path and the light hitting the trees, is strong too.

This too on FB and I can sort of buy that it is by him looking at the foliage. Again, sadly I cannot make any larger.

I will say that of his paintings I could find I did not see any other ones with animals in them and the hogs are much of the charm for me in this painting. His landscapes seem to generally be at more of a distance as seen in the others shown above, mostly pulled off a facebook page devoted to people looking for info on the artist. (I will attempt to post a link to this later but at least maybe anyone searching him in the future will benefit from all the pieces I have pulled together.)

Going back to this painting, I like the pattern made by this hand hewn fence winding through the picture, a slightly oversized crow perches on it. Piles of sticks are on the other side of the fence from where these big fellows are enjoying a bit of a wallow in a mud holes and wandering up this path. They appear to have a hog house further back and one fellow (or gal) is having a rub on a tree. It is very evocative of its place and time.

Tiny at bottom of frame; I think this was made by a label maker.

Finally, I want to draw you attention to the tiny sign at the bottom of the painting which says, Culhwch. (It looks like it was printed on a labeling machine.) This Welsh name appears to refer to a figure in Welsh mythology (Arthurian story?), whose mother was frightened by swine when pregnant with him – he is later found in a pigsty and taken to his father, no further mention of his mother and he goes on to do all sorts of things – none additionally related to pigs. It is a bit complicated for the uninitiated, even on Wikipedia. It is (sort of) pronounced Kill-hook. The swine reference is clear but interesting for him to have in mind and where did it come from I wonder.

This wonderful little painting now proudly hangs just outside the kitchen here in New Jersey where you can get up close and get a good look at it. Although I am partial to cats I wouldn’t have missed this pig painting and am very glad to have it as part of the extended Pictorama collection!