Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today I have cat tales. Cats are of course the foundational interest of Pam’s Pictorama although we do stray – Kim’s comics, the occasional dog. We are All Pam, all the Time, but albeit not quite cats all the time but much of the time.
Today’s card came as a purchase from the most recent incarnation of the postcard show and we have the Boulanger card with crying kitties to consider. I’m not exactly sure what in particular Maurice was thinking about. We have a dark gray and white matched pair of kittens who are looking at each other with tears running down their faces. The white one is a bit pudgier and a smidge bigger than the gray one, one with yellow eyes and the other a very light green.
In my opinion Boulanger (b. 1910, d.o.d. unknown) was something of a pretending to the Louis Wain (b. 1860, d.o.d. 1939) throne so to speak, as there are a few decades of overlap between them. I reckon there was more than enough demand for the images produced by two cat artists. (Some prior posts for Boulanger can be found here and here. Louis Wain Pictorama posts abound but a few are here and here.)
This image is evidently called, Tendrement (Tenderly) and on some versions evidently in German it is also written, Apfelblüte. Daut un daut lüschen Hoffen –Apple Blossom. That sweet, soft glimmer of hope. I did wonder about the image of weeping pusses. It does raise the issue of who you might have sent this card to and what their reaction might have been. Mine was not sent and does not have any useful information on the back.
Yesterday was a major cat event here as Blackie has been doing sort of poorly with a lack of appetite. Ahead of the holiday weekend I managed to get him into his local vet in the late afternoon. Have I ever mentioned that Blackie seems to have an uncanny need to go to the ER on a holiday weekend or otherwise inconvenient (reads as more expensive too) times? He does. Long story short, no sooner had we gotten home than the vet called to tell me that after looking at his tests (a small amount of ketones in his urine) he needed to go to the ER.
The little man, feeling more himself, today.
Of course, these days the kitty emergency room is at the hospital where I work. So yes, on what should have been an afternoon off I was hopping in a cab and rushing Blackie down there. (Kim, still recovering from back surgery did the first vet trip but we decided he should stay home for the second.)
I took him fully expecting that he would need to stay overnight. A young resident saw him and ran some more tests. Blackie hates going to my place of employment, but this time I had reason to bless working there. He enjoys a low-key celebrity status as an employee kitty (people came and visited with us and even with him in the back, reporting out to me) and despite it being the Friday night before the long weekend, one of the senior docs who has seen him before came by to have a look at him.
She mentioned as had the other two vets, that he had a lot of bowel not moving in his intestines – kitty constipation. The difference was she gave me instructions for giving him a tiny kitty dose of Miralax. Since eating and resolving constipation were the main issues we decided I would bring him home – he has an appetite enhancer and an anti-nausea drug. Even when we came home last night, he was ready to eat! That combined with the Miralax appears to have set him absolutely right today. I woke to a hungry boy cat and a rather impressively full litterbox. Yesterday reminded me of why I love the hospital where I work. Yay for Blackie!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: It is threatening to be a hot summer’s day in May today – we are having now you see it, now you don’t warm weather here in Manhattan this spring. We whiplash between our light down filled jackets and sleeveless dresses, and I gather today will be the latter. I am heading to New Jersey to get the dahlias in for the year. They sit out the winter in the garage, tucked in paper bags, but for all the fickleness of the weather I think we are past frost here and I want them to have maximum time to bloom.
After yesterday’s excitement of reviewing Kim’s new book, I am afraid I have created a hard act to follow. I hope this Wain card from the recent postcard show does the trick – a palate cleanser of cat images to get back to the general business of Pictorama.
Upon reflection I realize I was slow to cede to Wain adoration – I resisted for quite a long time (overpriced postcards I remember thinking), but when I fell, I fell hard. I am a Wain addict. Few things dependably make me chuckle than a Wain image even if I have seen them many times before. A few of my past tributes can be found here and here but there are many!
His cat postcard parade is an almost endless variation playing on human foibles and attitudes – sardonic, malevolent, self-satisfied, mystified, distracted for starters. There are types too, fat, thin, businessman, solid citizen, and of course troublemakers galore. For types he is partial to tabbies – those nice decorative stripes I suppose. They can be a variety of shades. Today we have a gray tuxie which seems a bit exotic for him.
Today we have a Raphael Tuck & Sons card with four choral kitties – a cat quartet. Each holds a score which is inscribed, Nothing New Latest New Songs. Starting on the end with our pudgy, contented (self-satisfied?) fellow, gripping his book with both paws. He’s a fat cat in the best sense. (Somehow, we know these are all boy cats, yes?) Next to him is a small and skinny gray tuxedo, sporting a red bow looking a tad waifish, paw on tummy to help him emote. The two on the end are sort of a matched set of two colors of tabby, one has a blue bow for good measure and the music books they hold are a variety of green, red and blue. Each has a singing pose all his own showing his enthusiasm for his chorale endeavors.
When we look closely there is eye color variation and I assume Wain figured he could goose that a bit without anyone noticing – these cats have eyes of yellow, green and blue! They all are looking in different directions too which packs a smidge of action into this small image – and each singing with a different level of enthusiasm. Tails are curled in a variety of ways and directions, whiskers as well as eyebrows help complete the expressions. All these details are what Wain swaps out within his mental inventory of images he uses again and again. Finally, he supplies a sketched in shadow on the ground and nothing else aside from his signature which is sort of a visual element anchoring that side of the card, fat cat tail on the opposite side.
The title below is, The note duly reached in what I assume is Wain’s hand. Below that, in remarkably similar but lighter script someone has written, Hope I shall see you Thursday, Grannie. It was addressed to, Master C. T. Travers, Woolfanger, Warlingham, Surrey. The cancellation year is hard to read but appears to be August 13, 1905. Can I just say, how much fun must it have been to get a postcard like this when you were a kid? Yay for Grannie! Clearly enough that this card has survived more than 120 years.
So I leave you to revel in this smidge of Wain while I pack up my gardening togs and head out shortly. Look for some New Jersey pics on Instagram later.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: The cats are lined up and bent over sheets of Bristol Board, brushes clasped in paws, working hard with tiny pots of ink at the ready. They produce their sheets in an anthropomorphic ballet as they pass them in an assembly line, one to another. Kim keeps a weather eye on their progress while creating the art they are inking. While I, on the other hand, dance through the room in my vintage custom cat decorated dress, bringing treats and encouragement – while also the voice of reason and sometimes critique. Waldo lurks in the corners or out the window, wrecking occasional havoc. That is how folks might imagine life here at Deitch Studio.
The reality is slightly different and Kim actually gives you a pretty fair sense of it in his latest book, How I Make Comics. (It is available now. You can snatch yours up here and here online or run to your local comic bookstore and demand a copy.) Our tiny one room apartment is depicted there, although much like when they advertised apartments for sale, it somehow looks slightly bigger and some of the piles exist but I am grateful it looks a bit neater. Cookie and Blackie wander through, but he has spared you my long chatty conversations with them.
Kim’s workspace drawn in How I Make Comics.…And a recent picture taken for an interview.
Yes! Today is the day for my spousal and admittedly very biased review of Kim’s new book, How I Make Comics. For anyone who missed my earlier also biased wifely review of Kim’s Reincarnation Stories back in 2019, it can be read here. (And a new edition of Reincarnation Stories in trade soft cover can be found for sale here or here.)
What Kim has captured, to my thrill and delight, at the core of this book – is the unending conversation which is the background of our lives, much of which is devoted to developing storylines. Sometimes these are just little spurts of story. Kim will tell me something and I’ll say, Ha, there’s a story there! and he might spin it out a bit or I will read a wild snippet from the morning New York Times aloud and wind us both up. Some stick, most don’t. (As noted in the book, those that qualify earn a place on a bit of paper on his desk under the plexiglass he draws on.) I am the only one on social media and share the occasional choice tidbit – a cat that brings a stone to a fish store daily in exchange for a treat or the like.
I love it when Kim creates new toys amongst my real ones. Detail from page 33 of How I Make Comics.
Meanwhile, for those of you who like to see the Pam Butler character you will not be cheated. I sit here with my coffee, in my pajamas (Pictorama folks know I wrote about my favorite pair of pj’s in elephant toile here a few years ago) at my laptop, often on a weekend morning, while Kim sits next to me (really next to me, I squeeze past him each morning – while inking no less, talk about ballet) to get more coffee. He’s working and there is a stream of consciousness discussion between us. His desk complete with photos over his workspace is lovingly depicted in several pages – recognize any of those from prior Pictorama posts?
I’m not saying that it is only in the morning that we chat extensively, but it is the most time we have together during the week when we aren’t eating dinner and exhaustedly watching our current passion on television. (While old films continue to play a major role in our watching, we have recently worked our way through a Japanese serial, Jin, from 2011, followed by the Canadian series, Anne With an E, ’17 and now just catching up with Breaking Bad, ’08. As you can see we missed the early to mid-20 teens in television and are making up for it now.) Depicted in the book is our Covid/post Covid configuration of the apartment and much of How I Make Comics has at least its genesis in those years. (There is one sole visual reference to mask wearing on pages 66 and 67 – a true passage of that story.)
It is funny for me (and somewhat enlightening) to see the comic book version of myself with my words coming out of her mouth. My role as critic and top rejector of not-quite-up-to-snuff stories is played out in this book. Pam Butler sounds a bit hard at times, although frankly I recognize precisely what she says as my very own words or ones much like them so no argument. On the other hand, how could I reject a story about a 40-year-old cat in Harlem? Although I guess I don’t really and Kim plays it out for us, telling in true rollicking Deitch style.
To step back and have a real fan girl moment, it is a just thrill to have this book in my hands. We both love its shiny, metallic cover which portrays us in a sort of grinning, gaping cartoon grin, cats flying off, Kim working hard at his table with me over this shoulder. Pages are piling up around him – that’s real too.
Last night Kim had a signing at Desert Island in Brooklyn and Gabe Fowler had thoughtfully stocked many of Kim’s earlier books and others were brought in by people for signing. It was a glorious bunch of Deitch to sort through – Beyond the Pale (my own square one first Deitch book purchase about a year before meeting him); Smilin’ Ed; even The Amazing, Enlightening and Absolutely True Adventures of Katherine Whaley (arguably Kim’s favorite book of his); even Hollywoodland, and the equally allusive Shadowland, which might be the best size and printing ever of one of Kim’s books and sold out so quickly that they are hard to find. Having said that the work is well represented in this new volume with the space needed to investigate the tiny details in the images. It was a mini-career retrospective which I pawed through with delight while he was signing.
Fantagraphics has thoughtfully brought out a great trade paper edition of Reincarnation Stories at the same time and I admit with both on the table I felt like a mom who can’t decide between her children who are both beloved. In many ways though, How I Make Comics is a logical heir to Reincarnation Stories and even has a reincarnation tale told within. I really like the physical design of the trade paper volume. Seems to me it will be a pleasure to read that way.
Copies of the new softcover edition of Reincarnation stories showed up here the other day too!
It is a special thrill for me to see one of my actual storylines developed in How I Make Comics, Rat-Haven. It has been given a liberal Deitchien touch, but the original bones for it were, as depicted, from me – a story that popped into my head full-blown one morning on the way to work. Meanwhile of course there are liberal amounts of performing elephants, romance, retribution, cat people and other Kim Deitch essentials teeming throughout this book. A pro tip: look at the front and especially end papers carefully and you will get a bit of a story postscript.
A young Marie Deitch reveling in science fiction magazines.
Lastly, I am compelled to share that my favorite story in this book is, The Two Maries. There are stories of his that I have gently rooted for Kim to tell over time, and this is one of them which I am so glad to see executed. To me it is the perfect blend of things (real and might have been) and the visuals of Kim’s mom, Marie, and her science fiction reading addiction is one of the highlights of this volume. It kicks off the sort of appendix section at the back of the book – these appendixes are sort of like the kitchen at the party where everyone turns out to be hanging out – savoring some of the best bits for last.
So that readers is my heavily biased review of Kim’s new book. A prouder wife does not exist than Mrs. Pictorama Deitch today! I say, enjoy!
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: At the heart of my collecting are odd bit postcards and photos that just appeal to me and today it is one. It has been a little while since I have featured a real one-of-a-kind photo postcard that was made of someone’s pet – my indulgences at the postcard show have turned up more illustrated cards and professional photo postcards. However, in some ways these one-offs epitomize something about why I collect cat photos.
Photos are usually tributes to the puss in question, many mice caught, had kittens and the like, today’s is a different sort of good kitty notice. It took me a bit to realize that this missive declares that this Miss Cat (I believe kitty to be a girl), sweet little thing we see in the sun here, has not scratched our sender.
Beauregard is a very thoughtful cat and was always extra careful around mom.
Now, I am the first to say when you live with a kitten, you generally walking around like the bleeding wounded on some horror film set, arms and hands particularly mangled, until you convince them that there are things for scratching (and biting for that matter) and slowly it ceases.
It must be said that an odd flaw in my beloved Blackie is he never learned to use a scratching post or box. His sister Cookie is happy to tear furiously into one, as are the Jersey Five. I have set scratching boxes up in strategic places and they are used not only for scratching but Peaches in particular likes to sleep on them, as if on a little cardboard throne, as well as tear them to bits.
Mr. Blackie without a care in the world, showing his tummy recently.
As a result, we occasionally get a negligent scratch from Blackie’s nails, although he hasn’t actively scratched either of us since kittenhood. I used to worry about those kinds of unconscious scratches with my mom and her cats. At the end of her life her skin was very thin and as a diabetic, scratches could be a problem. However, her cat favorite lap cat Beau always seemed to be extra careful and we rarely if ever had a problem. In an adult cat clearly scratching is a clearly a sign of unhappiness – Back off buddy! You’ve crossed a line.
The cat in the photo reminds me of Peaches. She’s a terror and to my knowledge no one has actually ever touched her. She will get within two feet of me when I am putting out food and that’s it.
Our kitty here has been captured in a benign mood, although something has caught her attention out the window. She appears to be white with some stripe-y patches on the bottom half of her and some of the same color up around her head and ears. She’s not a kitten but does appear to be a fairly young cat. We see just the tip of her curled tail, mirrored by her shadow on this small table – she is barely staying still enough for this photo to be taken. She’s a sprightly cute little thing – clearly a scratcher though!
There is a cannister, such as would hold something like flour, behind her. (Dollars to donuts that got knocked over eventually if this was her favorite viewing table.) Puss is a little sassy, you can tell that from this pic. All this is captured in this circle printed at the top of the card.
Cookie likes to curl up under my desk. This was her during a zoom call last week.
Under it, the fellow in question has written, “Hasn’t scratched yrs” Yours Samuel Jackson. It was mailed from Schenectady on June 11 at 11:30 (maybe 12:30, hard to see), 1906. It is addressed (to the best of my decoding ability) to Miss Emma Crisppen, Coxsackie, N.Y. It arrived in Coxsackie at 4:00 PM of the same day. A miracle by today’s standards we cannot imagine. (Not that they could imagine sending an email or this blog post in all fairness.)
So there we have it, our slice of time out of 1906, very close to exactly 120 years ago today.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: So once in a while I drift a bit and devote a post to another of my passions, antique jewelry. (Sorry, cat folks – more and more on those to come.) I recently devoted a post to an amazing ring I purchased of Cupid chasing Psyche in the form of a butterfly. (That post can be found here.) Today I need to start by saying Kim purchased this for me, knowing I had a serious hankering for it, and of course that makes it a bit more special. Thank you! I love it!
Although I admittedly have a sort of insane fondness for opals (a post or two about them can be found here and one on a very beloved boulder opal ring here, if you are somewhat new to jewelry posts), and their constantly shifting shafts of light. My other passion, highlighted today, is a bit of a story or symbol I find motivating. I like my collections where I can see them (photos lining the walls here at Deitch Studio and increasingly in New Jersey.)
Antique bone skull set in a ring that is another favorite of mine. Ring designed by Muriel Chastanet of LA. Pams-Pictorama.com collection. They recently turned a slightly larger skull into a necklace for me.
Rings. Yes, I do wear several on each hand most days, and they are a constant morale boost for me. To have them either winking light at me or motivating me with their stories and symbolism can inspire me all day. The ring I am sharing today was on the site of a British vendor (@heart_and_serpent on IG or their website here) for several months before I caved and grabbed it up. I saw it once on Instagram and it caught my eye and then tugged at my brain. I just kept visiting it on her site – hoping it would not have sold. Luckily it had not and I realized that I really needed it. Somehow this one was meant for me I think and I wear it pretty much daily.
I am not sure the world at large currently shares my interest in a certain kind of cameo or intaglio rings. (Yes, I have bought another cameo ring, this one depicting Hercules, coming soon. I was deeply interested in the symbolism of his endurance and perseverance. Seems like a good message for me right now.) Their loss! Luckier for me as they don’t just fly out of the store and I have the sort of pause I tend to need before making a significant purchase I plan to wear frequently like I do these.
I must say, I can just get lost in the little story depicted on this ring. A woman in a long dress and her large dog (dog really sold it for me) are walking in front of what I think of as her house. The cottage is made of bricks and there is also a brick wall next to it – this creates great textures and there is incredible depth to the image. There manages to also be a sort of a bit of fence and bushes. Another house, with trees behind it, is in the distance and there are even clouds in the sky. There are sort of four layers to the space in the image.
This was unusual for me but something I found when clearing out stuff of mom’s in New Jersey. Pams-Pictorama.com collection.
According to the seller, the ring is circa 1890 and the rose gold setting is 9k, which is a karat I think of as more frequently used in Britain than the US. Although in reality while I assume the ring is British (as it came from there and the 9k setting) I don’t actually know. The Victorian nature of the ring, the depiction and enjoyment of the natural world, is a bit of a giveaway though. I will add that the rose gold plays off very nicely with the shell cameo color. Meanwhile, let’s just say it is just as well I don’t live in Britain because I purchase a lot of jewelry (not to mention toys and photos) from there and can only imagine how much worse it would be if I could actually visit these folks and not pay shipping and now tariffs!
There is a mark where the ring was made a bit bigger and me, even with my somewhat arthritis swollen hands, can and do wear this on my index finger. (Index finger is somewhat new territory – I expect to get to my thumb one of these days. I have seen women wear old, chunky gold men’s rings on their thumbs and love the look. I have my eye out. Poor thumbs should not be jealously unadorned!) The majority of my cameo rings are actually quite small and I wear them on my pinky.
Lauren over at Heart and Serpent has many stunning mourning pieces in her generously stocked online store. (She just put a photo of herself up on her IG account today as it happens, sitting in front of some gorgeous early tiles, at a historic site I think.) I have a smattering of mourning objects (I wrote about one in a post here several years ago with a very moving story), although have not worn many of the pins lately as I wear fewer jackets to sport pins on, and I found the necklace I wrote about a bit fragile to wear frequently – no scarves to tug at it but even without that. (My jackets are also the display area for my collection of gold, school merit medals, also with encouraging messages like Improvement or Excellence. Those are credited with helping get me through some rough days as I found my footing at a new job. Posts about those can be found here and here.)
Antique horse cameo ring designed by the incomparable Muriel Chastanet Jewelry of Los Angeles. Probably the first big jewelry investment I made. Still a favorite. Pams-Pictorama.com.
I think my current job (raising money for an emergency animal hospital) has peaked my interest in dog imagery. I meet many more dogs these days and am giving them their psychic due. The large dog here definitely caught my eye and just between us, there is a very beautiful dog stick pin which has landed at Pictorama which may eventually find its way to becoming a ring or even fitted for a necklace. Cats watchout! The dogs are on the move.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: We are mooning around today here at Pictorama and of course Deitch Studio is a good place for it as no one does it better than Kim in my opinion. That old man on the moon – Kim makes him toothy and gives him carbuncles and craters for an extra moon-y surface to his bald head. There was a time when I might have said that the Man on the Moon best defined Kim’s work – along with the time clock with a face standing over him for starters. And I generally ask Kim for a moon face (and snow) in our holiday cards.
A good ‘ole Kim Deitch moon in this eye popping pic of a cartoon mural!
Postcards, photography, cartoons – all in love with the man on the moon and hanging with him. My collection has a few choice photo postcards of people sitting on the moon (I’d have more if they weren’t so expensive!) and of course even just a few posts back there were kittens in a balloon flying toward the moon. A few images from my collection are below. (The post about the photo of Kim and Simon shown below can be found here.)
Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.
(The card above was from a previous postcard sale and was in a January post which can be found here.)
As much as we crave sunlight there is something about being out under the rays of a bright full or roaring orange harvest moon that makes us kick up our heels in a totally different way – not to mention the romantic interludes it inspires. I remember reading a passage in a novel about roaming through backyards and streets in the suburbs late at night under a bright full moon. Having grown up in suburbia it brought such a specific image to my mind that stayed with me. And where I grew up it would have also been the moon on the water too, always reflected on the river in our backyard. Stephen Millhauser writes very compellingly about having a different life by night – I may be thinking of him. (His novella, Enchanted Night is a good place to start with his books.)
Available in paperback in a number of places online.
I fell hard for this postcard immediately. I found it last weekend at the postcard show and the dealer told me it is a part of a series. Although I found another copy of this card in a collection online, I was unable to find others from a series. I will be keeping a sharp eye out however.
An early Deitch Studio holiday card production with moon, stars instead of snow. I like those too.
It would appear that these youngsters are constructing this natty moon fellow, placing his hat, glasses (those are a nice touch!), giving him a pipe, and one doing something with his mustache – applying it? There is a tiny paint can next to him. Obviously a ladder is necessary to do this work. The boys are all wearing overalls in different colors and reach sports red shoes.
The thing about this image is this amazing flying contraption the boys are in. When you look carefully it is a flying boat – something akin to a rowboat with wings, a kite-tail and strange wheels – for use on land? Another look and you realize that there is something coming off the flying machine to the back of the moon – it appears it is actually propping it up in the softly star studded sky. The painting boy, tucked in the seat of this machine, has a tiny ship’s wheel in front of him to steer. How all three would fit is also a further question for our imagination.
Kim and Simon posing for a moon seat photo as tiny tots!
Lastly this machine hangs over the endless sea – like it is taking place somewhere at the ends of the world, which is likely is. Waves appear to gently lap but of course space and scale are left entirely to our imagination. I must say the artist had a wonderful vision and got to run with it on this one.
This card was never mailed although the back has indications that it was pasted into something. The maker’s mark is postcard druik u. Verlag von B. Dondort, G m.b.H. Frankfurt a/m which doesn’t seem to lead to much of anything.
It is seldom that an image makes me as dreamy as this one does. It gives a new visual to the idea of thinking that your loved one has indeed hung the moon for you. A cheerful thought on a rainy Sunday here in New York City and at Deitch Studio.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: This year it is a foggy, rainy Easter morning here in New York City. Hardly the harbinger of spring that you want it to be, however I am celebrating with this somewhat whacky card. I bought many months ago at the postcard sale and I bought it for the sheer, delightful, oddness of it.
Just noting that I have an odd fondness for these chocolate Easter eggs from childhood and still grab one or two annually.
The card is heavily embossed with thick looking gold highlights. A careful look tells that it appears to take place in a dark forest, if you peer behind the large egg house the trees almost bend around it. Easter Greetings is engraved with gold highlights, nestled among the trees. Meanwhile, a pretty little decorative, curtained window on the second floor of this egg house reveals a rooster portrayed in dignified profile. Below him is a sweet little green door complete with a mail slot and a red portico (you want to get into the house in the rain comfortably, after all), and even a little pull chain for a doorbell. There are a few front steps to complete the image.
Below, running wildly are two little chicks – I say little although somehow they are much larger than the rooster – who I grant you is at a bit of a distance up in his window, but still! They are in a race with each other on a grassy turf; the light one has a worm the one with brown feathers wants to share. Is there a cryptic and symbolic meaning in this? The artist was very conscious of shadow, bottom of the egg, under the chicks, under even the tiny window ledge, giving the card a three dimensional appeal.
The border of the card is a colorful riot of flowers, leaves and (pink!) eggs on a gold background. The eggs are dispersed in odd groupings of single, three and two, again not sure if there is some symbolism I am missing.
Back of card.
Like many lately, I find that this card was addressed on the back but never stamped and postmarked so therefore not mailed and no date for us. I show the back above, the sloping child’s hand going off the card and barely crams in the address. It appears to read, Miss Eleanor Bigwood, 928 Helamont Avenue, Schenectady, NY. Upside down on the other half, in the same hand but very hard to read is, Myra and Victor – presumably the senders. I will assume that this precious missive was ultimately put directly in Miss Bigwood’s hands.
With today’s weather we can only cheer ourselves with the old adage, April showers bring May flowers. And it is true! The pansies, tulips, magnolias and cherry trees are in bloom after a long winter’s nap. New York City is shaking off its long-held mantle of winter at last this year and it is all we can do from burying our heads in the flower filled tree wells lining the blocks here.
Meanwhile, we had a gorgeous spring day yesterday. Kim and I endeavored to undertake his first long walk since his surgery, about a mile round trip to Orwashers bakery and back. This weekly walk to get a nice loaf of bread for the week has become somewhat of a ritual and during the hospital stay and the MoCCA convention last weekend, it has been interrupted. However, the walk was much longer than anything he has done since the surgery, although still using a walker now and for the coming month. He did it like a champ though which makes us feel he is well on the way on the, albeit long, road of recovery from his back surgery.
Homemade matzoh making a holiday appearance at Orwashers this weekend.
Although Orwasher’s was all sold out of their as advertised, yummy-looking hot cross buns when we got there (oh my!) a small amount of homemade matzohs were still available. Although not our mission for the day (we stuck to our loaf of sourdough and a bonus olive stick), it was a reminder of the dual holidays, Passover and Easter, which signify this season of renewal and regeneration.
Pictorama readers may remember that with a Jewish father and a mother who was raised in a Catholic/Episcopalian household, I grew up recognizing both holidays, admittedly in a secular and food related way. I can remember Easter weekends with matzoh brie (my mom had mastered that) followed by an Easter Sunday family brunch at my maternal grandmother’s of ham and homemade Easter bread. We dyed Easter eggs but also, at least roughly, knew the rituals of a Passover seder. It all means the return of spring to me now – tied to the blooming of the magnolia in my front yard in New Jersey and streets filled with masses of blooming cherry trees.
A day or so in the ER and even a short stay in the hospital will always remind you of your blessings – other people’s problems are indeed frequently worse than your own, and we have seen that recently. For now, I remain grateful to say spring is arriving, Kim’s recovery and walking improving apace, and there are many signs for a significant growth and blooming in the next part of this year.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: This is an interesting year for me to focus on MoCCA, the annual comic con manisfestation of the Museum of Comic and Cartoon Art) now it its 24th year. I think Kim and I have been going to this comics fest since its early days at the Puck Building downtown. From there it bounced a bit and had homes at various locations including the Armory, Chelsea and now the Metropolitan Pavilion on West 18th Street. Sponsored by The Society of Illustrators (which probably deserves its own post covering its august history), MoCCA is an annual March event by which we tell the comics calendar here in New York City. Over time it has grown like topsy and there was a moment yesterday afternoon when I literally couldn’t move in the gathered crowd!
This year was a bit special for Deitch Studio because Kim’s new book, How I Make Comics, is being previewed there with advanced copies, a talk and signings. We are so excited to see the book at long last! So we had a bit more of a purpose there than our more usual ramblings.
Kim and Bill kicking off the talk and Bill’s copy of Kim’s new book here.
However, the road to it was complicated this year and in part I write because I think you’ve had some hurried Pictorama posts on recent weekends. To start at the beginning, as snow buried New York repeatedly in March Kim and I weren’t doing our morning walk to work – not surprisingly, it was lousy walking. (I wrote about those walks not long ago here.) He’d had some pain and walking seemed to aliviate it, however without it, about a month ago we realized that he was having increased pain – and, alarmingly, trouble walking at all. A trip to the ER followed three Saturdays ago, and it turns out he had a severely herniated disc.
It was clear that surgery was in the offing – eschewing actual emergency surgery, we started on the bumpy road which led us to an operation last Thursday (micro surgery – I’d only considered this on animals via work oddly enough), although some issues kept him in the jug until a week ago today. (I liked the hospital okay enough although I think our animal hospital is much nicer – I’d much rather go there!)
This was one of those rarified items that turned up – never saw this before!
In general surgery seems to have been a great success. He’s walking much better, improving daily, although he needs to develop some muscle for any distance again. No bending, lifting or twisting – we seem to be good about the lifting but the bending and twisting, well…he tries. Most importantly for all involved, he was back in his work chair for pretty much full days starting on Monday – he’s made his halfway through the next book already and has a full head of steam.
Kim’s messier (even) than usual work table and area shown here – as shown at the slide show yesterday.
All this to say, it’s been a busy time on the ground here at Deitch Studio and we were on a deadline with MoCCA kicking off the book yesterday. I’m pleased to say it was a great day and really much fun. John Kelly of Dummyzine fame (@dummyzine) invited Kim to sit at his table for part of the day, joining Bob Camp of Ren and Stimpy fame. John is working on a long interview with Kim for Dummy which we look forward to coming out later this year.
Mark Newgarden, John and Kim looking over some of John’s rare Deitch items.
At lunchtime our friend and comics historian Bill Kartalopoulos (@kartalopoulos) did a great interview with Kim which covered process (what fun to see one of Kim’s pages go from rough pencils to a tight lay out and then to an inked page through the miracle of Powerpoint), but also delved into some family history which plays out in How I Make Comics. He spent some time on my favorite story in the collection, The Two Maries, about Kim’s mom and grandmother hitchhiking from Denver to LA in 1939.
A young and very pretty Marie Deitch (nee Billingsley) shown here.I knew her in later years and was very fond of her.
Yours truly and Pam’s Pictorama got a shout out as well – thank you Bill! And we were so pleased to see how many folks showed up for the talk – a thank you to those of you who made it.
Then it was over to the Fantagraphics table (Kim’s longstanding publisher and a big presence at the con) to sign advanced copies of the book and meeting folks which is always fun. I get to see some early, rare appearances of Kim’s work in volumes people have collected and want him to sign. Amazing! This fan girl is thrilled!
We’re back today for more – if you are around say hello! Kim is signing from 1-2:00 today and otherwise we will spend some time back with John and his other guests. I will man the box of original art for sale so come on by – and back to more traditional Pictorama next week!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: I guess like most people, sometimes I see something and it sticks with me and nags at me until I do something. This ring was one of those things. I don’t know why but I kept imagining it on my hand and it just seemed to belong there and to me. However, it was way at the top end for what I spend on jewelry, and never from someone online and from whom I have never purchased before. Nonetheless, I kept checking and I was relieved it never showed up with a big sold on it when I looked. (A few other jewelry posts can be found here and here.) Pictorama readers know I do love jewelry!
Another utterly favorite ring. This is an antique cameo set in a contemporary gold setting.Saw this in LA on a business trip and had to contact the store a week later and have it sent!Clearly I have a thing for cameo rings.
Their description of the ring from their website is as follows: This exquisite cameo ring dates from the Victorian era, the latter half of the 19th century, circa 1880. Cupid (or Eros) is depicted as a chubby little cherub, reaching up to catch Psyche who, in butterfly form, flutters above him. The pair are carved from white hardstone agate over a vivid deep apple green background. The panel as bordered by glistening rose cut diamonds and raised up on a wonderfully intricate pseudo-claw openworked gallery. Ornate shoulders and a reeded band complete the elegant aesthetic. Crafted in 18 carat gold throughout. Era: Victorian, circa 1880. The photo I am using today is from their website.
In addition to already being expensive, it was also in Great Britain so there would be a fee for the conversion to pounds, and the tariffs had already gone into place so even more expensive. Not only that but it seemed complicated to figure out which discouraged me. However, I was having a hard time over the holidays this year and I decided to make this gift to myself.
Sadly though it became an almost three month saga of international UPS madness. Pictorama readers know that I purchase many things from Britain. Although they are generally not at this price point I have rarely had a significant issue (one Felix photo postcard was lost in the mail and not refunded as Royal Mail had proof it had made it “here”) with items being delivered. Even during this same time a cat painting showed up unscathed.
So it either caught their attention because it was more expensive or it was just the time for it to happen, but this ring got stuck in Customs and absolutely nothing I did could spring it. The fees had been paid and that didn’t even seem to be the issue. Online tracking just indicated that it was stuck in Customs. Every phone call to International UPS is an automatic wait of 50 minutes or more. It became like a part-time job trying to liberate it. The ring made it all the way to Newark, only to be returned to England, virtually while I argued with them on the phone. Utterly maddening!
Fortunately the couple I was purchasing this from in Britain were utterly lovely. The proprietors of Lost Owl jewelry, they give the impression of leading a somewhat idyllic life in with their small chldren in the British countryside – wandering from one end to the other buying up treasures to share with the likes of me. (Find them in Instagram @lostowl.jewelry or their website here. Engage at your own risk and peril to your bank account.)
While I am sure their life is hectic and fraught like all of ours, nevertheless the illusion is lovely and somewhat enchanting. They do live sales sometimes on Sunday night which are cozy and wonderful looks at jewelry I really cannot afford – a very pleasant hour or so of looking however. If I lived anywhere near them I would just simply spend all my money on jewelry from them and be ruined. The hand wrought gold chains alone are enough to break me! (Although I am determined to have one eventually.)
Meanwhile, they had an agent on their end working on it too as obviously they sell to the US frequently. They remained determined and endlessly encouraging as my heart sank. I began to wonder if I would be able to love the ring despite its arduous history finding its way to our shores.
After the return to England, we doubled down and as it returned I made daily calls to different agents in India who represented UPS. (Some maddeningly insisted that there was no record of any prior calls.) I submitted personal information via email on demand, like an idiot. What can I say – I was losing all reason dealing with a system which is evidently quite broken. Who knew?
At last it arrived safely at my building, handed to me rather nonchalantly by my doorman one evening upon my return home from work in early March. I will say that I really love it and wear it almost daily, fighting for my right hand attention with my hither till now favorite boulder opal. (See a post about that ring here and my love of opals in general here.)
I wonder what it is about the ring that so attracts me, about the symbolism of Cupid and Psyche, as represented by the butterfly. Although Cupid of course represents romance, the combination of the two also seems to represent transformation, also of love and pleasure. I will say it is like having a little story on my hand which I love.
Other than to tell the cautionary tale, I bear no grudges against it at all and the ring only brings me joy. It seems to generate its own light on my hand. In the end it is everything I would hope it would be. When asked about how many rings can I wear I remind folks that I have ten fingers and 365 days a year.
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: A short post today and an unusual one as I don’t think I very often feature photos of my own childhood. However these two have been hovering on my desk for a bit and I have decided to share them. Admittedly it is a bit indulgent; they are largely photos only a family member could love, and not necessarily aesthetically special.
The black and white photo is my mom and dad and sister Loren. I am the babe in arms and according to the date on this, November 1964, I am 9 months old. It was taken in front of my maternal grandmother’s home, with the camera facing away from the house. (I wrote a long early post about my grandmother’s house and it is here.) My apologies to my brother Edward but these were take several years before he was born.
It is a bit rare really to have all of us in a photo as my father, the camera man, usually took the photo. He is wearing a trench coat (I still have one of his Burberry trench coats – they were a constand over the years like his very long Eddie Bauer down coats in the winter.) Dad is not wearing a hat which is very unusual. It would have been a wool cap.
Mom seems to be wearing a long trench coat as well and this was unusual – Dad must have bought it for her. I can’t really see her hair in this but it would have been some kind of longish at that time. Loren is two here, her life long curly hair already in evidence – she’d fight that through her teen years but I, of the straight hair, always liked it. I like this little double breasted plaid coat she is sporting.
Mom holds a chubby me in a fluffy top and be-pom pommed hat. I like this long fall shadow outlining use to the left. No idea who took this picture but I would make a guess it may have been my mother’s brother and this is probably Thanksgiving. I do not believe that wildly finned, white car behind us is ours. I think we may have been sporting a woody station wagon in the day – my family never went in for sporty cars.
My sister Loren on the left and me in a profusion of posies on the right. I don’t think these dresses inhibited some wild running around as soon as a few minutes after this – Loren already looks like she is leaping off!
The other photo (they were sort of stuffed together in a bit of plastic when I found them) is early color and is Easter Sunday 1966, two years later. My sister, in the pink, and I are clad in unlikely dresses for the holiday. I suspect they were gifts from my grandmother – I almost wonder if she made them but probably not. Our normal attire ran to the indestructible but were were clearly meant to be memorialized on this occasion as properly dressed little girls.
We would have had an Easter egg hunt either out in the yard or, if the weather didn’t cooperate, in the house. The ones in the yard, which I believe were courtesy of my uncle, are glorious in my memory. My (Jewish) father always had Easter baskets for us (usually Russell Stover ones) which were also wonderful. (I can remember a fascination with a soft, lifelike, tiny toy chick someone gave me one year and I was very sad when it got lost in the hustle and bustle of things.)
Loren is looking a bit angelic here although I knew her well enough to say she was probably like she was shot out of a canon two minutes later – and hadn’t even started on a sugar high. These dresses are really wearing us! The fabric comes back as unforgiving even now as I look at it. Oh the bows and flowers! I feel like my hair is a bit of a babu mullet here.
We are seated on a couch that lives in memory as an itchy green sort of flocked fabric. That small bit of flowered wallpaper brings back memories of my grandmother’s living room – and the blinds on the windows behind us were often closed, probably so the furniture wouldn’t fade. It was therefore usually a somewhat dark but not unpleasant room which I spent many hours happily in. A television ultimately found its way into that room in a giant wooden console that included a very fancy radio and record player.
The family would have headed into the kitchen where we would sit around an expanded table (or if the guest list was really big it would have reached through the living room) and as it was Easter there would have been a wonderful cakey homemade bread, fried dough (these were Italians doing this cooking!), ham, sausage and depending maybe my grandmother’s rather incredible meatballs. (I didn’t become a vegetarian for many years yet to come. I have attempted to make a fakemeat version of her meatballs!)
At that time Loren and I were the very first grandchildren of our generation – it would proliferate with the addition of my brother and several cousins over time. Sadly now several of those, including my sister, died very young and are already no longer with us. However, here we are, at the beginning of it all – a twinkle in everyone’s eye for the spring holiday.
Pam's Pictorama 