[new sketch]

Remember when I said I was happy to have nothing popping up to keep me from the final stages of my website redesign work? Well, something popped up as I was nearing completion. But this time I was so glad it did. My Wichita Forum cohort Ed Watts' girlfriend Heidi and friends were headed for the Broadway opening of their show [title of show] and Ed wanted to commemorate it with a sketch. We came up with this (see upper right). The sketch included many tributes – to the [tos] family, show references, fans (tossers), gifts received, celebrity visitors, and inside jokes – and I hear the presentation went over very well.

AND I was able to finish the website to boot. This was in thanks primarily to my Vista family, the Breners, who hosted me on a little surprise drop-in working vacation. Thanks, Nancy and Aaron! I owe you!

There's more art on the horizon too. I have a couple of logo projects in the works and some other "back-burner" projects making their way onto the desk. So keep an eye out. Take care, y'all! Peace and love.

At last...

Click here to witness the brand spankin' new design of the Squigs' Ink Illustration website. I can't express how amazing it feels to finally get it done. I'm sure I'll continue to futz with it for a while, but it's up and runnin' and I love how it looks.

Also keep an eye out here for a link to a new piece of art that just might be presented later today. Until then... take care, y'all! Peace and love.

In the zone.

I was in the zone today. I was a whirling dervish of a web design whirlwind. (It's about time.) I made major strides today on the overall look of the site and (where the rubber meets the road...) all the crazy busy work. I anticipate launching the redesign as early as next week, and I'm so thrilled. Doesn't it just stick in your craw when you have a project on the back burner with the full intent and desire to get it done and other things keep popping up? That's been my world. Now once this is done, I'll have to go back to that ol' back burner for the next project. It's never ending, but exhilarating when things actually get done.

So, to get my eyes uncrossed and celebrate the progress a bit, I headed over the hill to Largo (the new location at the old Coronet Theatre) and caught Sara and Sean Watkins in the little room. Even more than at the original Largo, this room makes you feel like you're in their den and they're just jammin' with pals. It was mostly just them this evening, but Willie Watson from Old Crow Medicine Show sat in on three tunes. Such a great intimate show!

Other than that, a couple enjoyable recent discoveries have been the movie Kung Fu Panda and the Seattle band, Fleet Foxes. Just a couple random recommendations. Anyway... now I'm back to the computer. Tomorrow, I may take the web design on the road for some variety. We'll see. But until next time... take care. Peace and love y'all!

Oregon reveries.

I'm back home after my lovely trip to Oregon. It was so lovely to see the folks, the sis and her family, Aunts Sandi and Pam, and especially Grandma who is recovering extremely well from surgery. There was also much relief after my brother gave us quite a scare all the way from Minnesota with his run-in with West Nile Virus and a few trips to the ER. It all was the best kind of drama – the kind that ends quickly and with a positive outcome.

As I've written about previously, I spent some wonderful time out at the coast. Such rejuvenation! And then as I headed up to Grandma's yesterday, I decided to schedule a trip to The Enchanted Forest. This roadside whimsical theme park was such a part of my younger years. As a wee one, I was certain that it was an extension of Disneyland, mainly because my imagination was often allowed to take flight in crazy ways in both places. I enjoyed paying homage to favorite sites as the little castle (which seemed so huge when I was five), the summer theatre stage (where I'm sure my love for theatre was spurred on), Humpty Dumpty, the Crooked Man's House, The Old Woman's Shoe (wherein you boarded a slide that would send you plummeting down the hill on a little green rug), the old western village Tofteville, and the Old Witch's Head (seen in the photo above). But the attraction I revisited with a bit of trepidation was the Haunted House... I remember that as a kid, I was absolutely freaked out by this thing, but I usually had someone to cower against. In fact, one legendary family story found my Grandpa, cousin, and I making our final exit from the place, one kid wrapped tightly around his head and the other wrapped around his ankles after nearly pulling down his pants. Every visit required a trip through this evil place, but I treated it like ripping off a band-aid... a long, slow, meandering tearing of skin.

But it couldn't have been as scary as I remembered it. Right? I bought my tickets and mounted the steps... Okay, who was the sadist who created this torture chamber in the middle of a kids' theme park? Granted, I was sans cowering buddy, but this place was FREAKY – all sorts of things popping out of the darkness and jets of compressed air. There were little whimsical-ish scenes along the way too, but the path between these breathers was horrifying! I emerged from that revered exit door actually sweating and SO relieved to be seeing the sunlight once again. I breathed a sigh as I half-jogged to the theatre where the panto-inspired, unchanging schtick style was slated to tell us the tale of Cinderella. Much more my cup o' tea!

So that's a little recent adventure for you. Now I'm back home and getting set to tackle some work that has been simmering on the back burner for a while. Take care, y'all. Peace and love!

A rainy 5th of July.

It's funny. It feels like a lazy day, but I'm realizing I've actually done quite a bit. I rolled out of bed, talked to Ma on the phone, grabbed java in Waldport, visited the Oregon Coast Aquarium and the otters and sharks and jellies, stopped in at the Nye Beach Clambake and partook in clams and shrimp and crab and a historical walking tour to boot, read about the only state-sanctioned counterculture music festival in America's history (Vortex 1 near Portland in 1970) at the Canyon Way Bookstore, and moseyed 20 miles north to Lincoln City for some chowder and Wi-Fi connection at the McMenamin's Brewpub. It's been a joyful experience partly because the music mix here has been (expectedly) amazing. In addition to some really great classic stuff, I've heard a few of my recent favorites – Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings and the Avett Brothers.

Last night was really fantastic, rather surreal evening. After the day at the La De Da Parade, a nap, and bowls of chowder at various favorite dives, I meandered back to Yachats for the evening Independence Day fireworks. To appreciate the scene, you should know about this particular section of the town. There's a large inlet that is filled with lulling waves at high tide and is a big sandy cove at low tide. All around the inlet, folks had camped out and those who lived along the perimeter were hosting parties. All throughout the evening, pyrotechnics from laymans' private collections would pierce the dusk. There were smoke bombs, sparklers, piccolo petes, and various crackling and whistling diversions which in turn made way for pieces that varied in legality and, therefore, fun... Roman candles and other crazy bright and loud things. It was all rather fun to see the cove socked in, not just with a light fog, but a layer of pyro smoke. The actual show, detonated in part by the Yachats Fire Department was pretty spectacular too... at least a half dozen false endings followed by an amazing bombastic finale. As the traffic congestion eased up through the little town, I took refuge at the Landmark and caught a set by The Insomniacs, a really fantastic blues/rockabilly band. On the walk back to the car, I happened by the local craft bazaar and their evening finale of fire dancing by the Burning Truth Tribe. Pretty spectacular! After soaking up a little of the local color, I meandered back to the house and watched Blazing Saddles on TVLand. A really great day.

And now, I've got to get back to my homework – formatting pages for my long-overdue website redesign. Wish me luck. Take care, y'all. Peace and love!

Happy Fourth!

Howdy! Ah!... I just found a happy little Wi-Fi connection! That last post was a little something I felt compelled to write on the journey from Lebanon to the coast – a little nostalgia on a summer's day. Hope you enjoyed. Now I'm in Yachats braving some drizzle as I meander to the La De Da Parade route. This fun, eccentric little parade is a Fourth of July tradition in this quaint coastal town.

I was here in Yachats last evening in an attempt to catch my favorite singer/guitar guy, Richard Sharpless. Although I stopped into his usual location, the wonderful Drift Inn (and heard a really good singer/piano/accordian guy), I found Richard at a little wine and cheese bar just down the street. I was wondering where I was as I wandered between venues to catch all sorts of music. Not only did we have Richard and the guy at the Drift Inn, but I stumbled upon big band night at the Yachats Commons. This lovely little rag-tag band really got to cooking at times and it was a joy to see the hall full of folks out for a good time. There were older couples dancing to their tunes and little kids dancing with parents. It was such a lovely scene to happen upon.

Before I made my way back to town today, I actually got my booty out of bed rather early and headed south to the amazing tidepools at Cape Perpetua. There was an incredibly low "minus" tide at around 8am and it has been a desire of mine to do a little exploring. So many anemones and mussels and starfish! I'm glad I made the effort. And now, I'm on my third cup of coffee and set for a slightly drippy day of red, white, and blue activities. Peace and love, y'all!

This used to be my playground.

Yesterday as I drove through my hometown, I passed a construction site. I became nostalgic as I realized that it was formerly the site of one of the ball fields on which I spent my little league summers and, specifically, the one on which I experienced my finest moment in baseball.

I liked little league – the camaraderie, the lazy lulls peppered with bursts of pure thrill, even the occasional crunch of dirt between my teeth. I liked the common ground found there between my dad and I. I was pretty good at this sapling version of America’s pastime. Well, I was better earlier on. Okay… in retrospect, I’m fine with not having been a baseball star on those fields of my youth. As we all careened into upper grades and became “big kids”, I started to get better at track & field. I took fourth in the eighth grade pentathlon at the Oregon State Junior Olympics. I then moved on to soccer, arguably a more manly sport (but you’d have to be European to think so). Amidst a very enjoyable high school soccer career, I set a goalkeeping record that still stands almost 20 years later. But as an older junior higher, I was holding down a lower-to-middle rung on the leaguer ladder to the diamond. Among the boys of summer, I think it was a matter of priorities. Many of my teammates’ dreams were dependent on a direct trajectory from those fields of little league through those daunting high school and college diamonds, then right through minor and major league stadiums on their way to Cooperstown. At that age I wasn’t sure exactly what my dreams were much less where they would take me. I was pretty confident, however, that I wasn’t on my way to the Hall of Fame. But even so, I must have borrowed someone else’s dream one particular game day because something came true.

The pitchers were pretty sharp in our league. I must have maintained a batting average of .200 this particular season so when I came to bat I knew my team was probably just hoping for a walk or some miracle to merely keep us alive for the next hitter. The pitch came. I swung and I’ll never forget that teeth-rattling connection with the ball. No one was more shocked than me to see the ball fly at a low but strong rise to a place just left of center field, causing the fielders to run to the farthest point of the outfield. Two of my teammates crossed home before I safely touched third. Two “ribbies” (RBIs) and a solid triple! And for that moment, I was the center of the team. I can still hear the yells and feel the pats on the back. I climbed from my low-to-middlin’ rung that day to a much higher place. And although the following week I’d settle once again for that old familiar rung, for one day I WAS a baseball star. I wish every ball player on every field in every remote county at least one moment like that.

And as I slowly drove by the vacant lot occupied only by foundation markers, I remembered that lazy day bursting open with young joy, and for just a split second, I could have sworn I felt that old familiar crunch between my teeth.