Monday, August 29, 2016

Caterpillars in the Garden, Pt. 2

A few days ago, I mentioned that you cannot control nature, but today's events suggested that you might be able to influence it. Between that last caterpillar post and this one, the larger, more colorful caterpillar disappeared. And I found three more tiny black ones, which consoled me.

This afternoon, though, as my daughter and friend were sitting out in the yard, they witnessed something you can only see if you stay in one place and watch long enough. A yellow jacket came and ate one of the tiny black caterpillars. To prove it wasn't a mistake, it came back and plucked off another.

Disturbing. Yellow jackets eat caterpillars when the caterpillars are smaller than the yellow jackets. I accept that nature is cruel. I accept that hummingbirds eat spiders. But I was enraged. I don't like yellow jackets anyway, and now I know they are destroying something I do like, it makes me like them even less. Poison came to mind. Or a trap. Then netting. I had some pink netting squirreled away in the studio, leftover from my daughter's Halloween bride costume from last century. It was light enough to drape over the parsley, protecting the only smart caterpillar, the one who consistently hides underneath the leaves.


The last remaining caterpillar is under the picnic table, so it is less visible. I found some embroidery mesh to prop up around it. Okay, little brides, I guess this is all we can do.

Sometimes standing back and watching and waiting and hoping isn't the right move. Sometimes intervention is necessary, especially when you know what will happen if you don't.  

Still, it makes me feel uneasy. I've just been reading about tourists who are getting too close to wildlife and getting mauled and gored, who are ignoring the signs and feeding wild animals, and who think they know best as they tramp over protected land and try to rescue wild babies thinking to return them to the herd. The scale of the issue and the stakes are much higher there. But no matter the scale, one must continue to think about these things.

Who gets to decide? When? And why?

Thursday, August 25, 2016

Caterpillars in the Garden

In our last episode of Caterpillars in the Garden, we had swallowtails on our parsley in 2008. Hoping to attract them again, I faithfully kept a parsley patch, but nobody came. The parsley has migrated around the backyard: jumped the stone walkway, hidden under the picnic table, and I gave up. I don't have any control over who comes to grow there, but I do still have hope. Last year we saw one caterpillar; the next day it was gone.

In the first episode, two caterpillars made it to the chrysalis stage. We could tell when they were going to emerge because the chrysalis became transparent and we could see the folded wings inside! A young family was visiting the day the first one was ready. I kept calling the girl over until finally we watched it emerge. She, in the age of the single digits,  was both impatient and did not seem that impressed. I, in middle age, who had never seen this event before, was excited. There should be a word for when you know you've witnessed something important and rare and the person next to you takes it for granted. It's not quite wistful or knowing or disappointed or eager or nagging or demanding or delighted or awestruck or wonderfilled. But some kind of combination.

At the time, I made a book about it. Unfortunately, I didn't make very many. It was called Those Who Wait Can Walk Through Walls. It's a simple folded X-book, with a few alterations, tucked into a folded chyrsalis-shaped-window envelope. You have to peek inside to read the text. (photo: Sibila Savage)


Last week, I examined the parsley for the millionth time. The caterpillars are showing up again. This one came first, living on a renegade parsley between two pots by the picnic table. (Taken with a magnifying lens)



I found two later, and they are younger, judging from their instar stage. Here is one. (magnified also)



It's so nice to think about something aside from the news. We hope the story begins again.  But we don't have any control over certain aspects of nature. Stay tuned.

Monday, August 22, 2016

New Book Art: The Catch

My goal: an inexpensive book using a structure I would be willing to make about forty times. The Woven Accordion is an easy eight-panel accordion with two long slits horizontally down the center, six cards woven through the slits. I would print the six cards from one linoleum block so that I could rotate the block and be able to have something different on the front and back. To highlight this, I would print in reddish purple on one side, purplish red on the other. And so I did.

The Woven Accordion works like a Jacob's Ladder, but, being made out of paper, it catches a bit and must be helped and worked by hand, more like a flexagon than the child's toy. Each card looks like a face card from a playing card deck, but instead of Queen both rightside up and upside down, she is paired with King on one card, Jack on another; Jack and King also share a card. The book fits in the palm of your hand.

The Catch has six letterpress printed words from handset type, and you can only see one set at a time before you have to manipulate the book. "Called one name / known by another" is that text. Other text within mentions how a wooden 2 x 4 is really 1 1/2 x 3 1/2, and this text is printed from the carved block and appears on the cards. The book measures 2 x 4 inches. The images on the cards are 1 1/2 x 3 1/2. Yeah, a little conceptual.




The Catch is now available at nevermindtheart on Etsy and will be at my table at the SF Zine Fest on September 4, 11am - 5pm in the County Fair Building, Golden Gate Park.

Instructions for the Woven Accordion are in Making Handmade Books: 100+ Bindings, Structures & Forms on page 135.

Monday, August 15, 2016

New Book Art: Alphabetical Lichencounters

I must be going mad. No, I'm just excited about the upcoming SF Zine Fest, and it is causing me to make more books this summer than I have made in a few years total. When I was in college I made six books a year. They were small-scale, meant to be affordable. I loved making them. I'm enjoying the process all over again.
  Now I present the latest, Alphabetical Lichencounters. Yes, I made up that word. Yes, it is a pun. My drawings of lichen, letterpress printed from photopolymer plates, fill the counters of select wood type letters. Counters are the closed parts of letterforms such as inside the O and A. I broadened the usage so I could choose lichen that were interesting and distinctive, even if their initial letters weren't closed. The lichen encounters the letterforms. The Pants book format includes the prose poem from my HOUSEWORK house, this time letterpress printed from handset type. I wanted to be able to share that piece with more people.

Lichen is interesting. You can't cultivate it. And it is algae+fungus, a symbiotic relationship between them. First became fascinated and drew them, posted the drawings here in 2013. Alphabetical Lichencounters, like all the other new books, may be found on my website, my Etsy store nevermindtheart, and with me at my table in San Francisco on Sunday, September 4, 2016, County Fair Building, Golden Gate Park, 11am - 5pm.


Fun Fact Addendum 8/16/16: Just got an order from Germany, which made me curious to see what "lichen" meant in German. It means union.