Lost and Grabbed
Thinking about the LA fires, sharing a mega mutal aid google doc, and trying to not feel defeated
Like everyone, my mind has been on the LA Fires and how it’s impossible to fathom the sheer devastation and loss that’s happening. This morning, I woke up to this Curbed article that highlighted people recounting items they lost and the items they grabbed. I felt compelled to draw a few as I thought about the items I would grab if given a chance and how I need to organize important documents and other bits of crucial ephemera currently scattered all around my home. The article is heartbreaking. Hearing folks recount lost family photos, file boxes filled with mementos, and other irreplaceable things filled me with sadness, and drawing some of these objects felt like I was memorializing the items lost and celebrating the few treasured objects that were grabbed and spared.
My friend
It’s inspiring to see the grassroots organizing and interpersonal mutual aid happening on the Internet to support folks affected by the fires. The Internet has been feeling more and more like The Bad Place, and this is a nice reminder that it can also be a powerfully helpful place.
Thanks for the kind response to my 2024 Daily Purchase Drawings post from last week. As we enter 2025, I have a few more from 2024 to share. During the holiday break, we turned a small room into a cozy movie-watching room in our house. This is where the used couch comes into play. Hank and I went to many consignment stores and second-hand furniture spots to find the perfect couch within our budget (under 200 dollars, please), and we scored.
The couch shopping process and the fires reminded me of one of my favorite children's books, A Chair for My Mother, written and illustrated by Vera Williams. A few years back, I found a copy at a thrift store, and to my delight, Hank liked it a lot, too. It’s a sweet story with gorgeous watercolors and ranks in my top ten list of kid books.
Last week was the first week of the term, so many of these purchases reflect emotions of the first week including: "Omg, I forgot my lip balm." "Omg, I need some caffeine." "Omg, I need folks to attend class on time, so how about I buy an old time clock off Facebook Marketplace and a stack of timecards for my students so we can make coming to class on time a little more silly and fun?” The time clock has arrived, but I haven’t used it yet. I will keep you posted.
I also purchased a ticket to watch Michael Shannon cosplay as Michael Stipe on February 22nd at Revolution Hall. I don’t know how I feel about this, but here we are.
Speaking of music, I just added this print, featuring 18 of my record albums, to our online shop. I am slowly drawing all of my records, and here is the first print installment of hopefully many. Some are drawn in pen, some are painted in watercolor, and some are a combination of both. They all started in my sketchbook and were only recently compiled and turned into a one-color riso print in black ink on cream paper.
Since the holiday season ended, I have struggled with getting back into routines and making in general. I recently contacted Dave Demarchi (9 in Hand Press) to purchase a copy of their “Doing and Making are Acts of Hope” print. This phrase has been rattling around in my brain on repeat as I ease into this weird new year. Like most of you, I feel very distracted by the news and everything happening in the world. I get even more frustrated and grossed out when I don’t make time to make things. Corita Kent’s quote is my mantra for 2025. Let’s go!
⚡️❤️ KBB 🌟
Oh man. I would also love a copy of that print. It is so so so true. (And you are not alone in the slightest getting back into the routine of things/getting into this new weird year).
Happy to see Future Islands among your record drawings!