public service announcement.

You have exactly nine days left to get yourself to the freezer aisle and cry into your last ever bowl of Häagen-Dazs coconut macaroon ice cream before it disappears forever and we are left to only wistful reminiscing (is that redundant?) about way back in the day when  there was that one glorious summer of the very nearest thing to perfection you've ever known and your mum joked about actually buying an extra freezer where we would keep in the garage pint after pint of this perfect stuff, pint after pint long after the limited edition had run its beautiful run, unless of course our campaign was successful, our campaign to eliminate the limited edition lid entirely, which we talked about sometimes mostly seriously but summer was so full of so very many other things and then suddenly it was September and time was too far gone and so instead we have measured these first days of fall in ice cream scoops (apologies to Eliot) and today I drew a picture because just because and why not and now you know and if you haven't known, hurry fix it because I am telling you that sometimes actually you can buy happiness, and for the next nine days it will cost you only $4.69.

you're welcome.

a star chart for saturday.

tonight's sky in full size HERE.

bow ties are cool.
THIRTY DAY DRAW 8/30 // FAVOURITE TV SHOW

So the prompt here was favorite animated character, and we should probably talk about this because I'm not sure about favorite, but Maid Marian was certainly the first to come to mind—Disney's Maid Marian, that is, because when I was little I thought she was hands down the prettiest thing on four paws, plus she played badminton, and then Robin Hood slipped that posey promise ring on her finger and I was confident there had never been a better love story, in Nottingham or otherwise. Are you singing along at this point? Love, it seems like only yesterday . . .

But I'm not all into the cartoon scene anyhow, so favorite's a bit strong. There's a whole handful in the Disney drawer: Anita Dearly, Belle, Rajah, that girl who Mowgli falls in love with. 

Still. That's just Disney. And Disney is great, but then there's Samurai Jack. For Samurai Jack, I have no words. In fact, some episodes don't have words. Which is what I'm trying to say here—this show went so beyond animated I hesitate to even put it in this category. Samurai Jack is more a study in cinematography; the animation itself is super simple, but if you take a step back and consider what the series would look like in live action, there are few that could match it in artistic sense. Then there's the storytelling and the styling and the soundtrack. No wonder they cancelled it. What else do the networks ever do with the best of television?

If you've no idea what I'm on about, repent. Then reclaim your childhood and talk to me. May or may not own the entire series.

True story: I fell asleep typing this. And now it's seven a.m. But since this post passed the point of no return long ago, let's go back to Robin real quick and take a minute to appreciate that this happened.

Hey. Saturday morning, y'all. Go watch some cartoons.

PENELOPE'S THEME // NATHAN JOHNSON

favorite movie (one of) // this music is love // not to mention: adrien brody

and I dream about that coat. perfect film is perfect.

FULL SIZE HERE

FAVORITE BOOK: 

I'll read anything by a Russian, dead ones especially. Sure, some people write prettier. Most at least write far more succinctly. But when it comes to raw humanity—that scope of life from gore to glory—there's no comparison.

Thirty years before The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoevsky was arrested together with other members of the Petrashevsky Circle and sentenced to death. After eight months in prison, Dostoevsky was taken out to what he thought would be his execution—only to have the order reprieved at the very last second, blindfolds already tightened, guns at the ready. Instead, Dostoevsky was assigned to four years of hard labor in Siberia, and in a later letter to his brother described the day's turn of events and his new sentence. He wrote what I often feel after reading his writing:

Brother, I'm not depressed and haven't lost spirit. Life everywhere is life, life is in ourselves and not in the external. There will be people near me, and to be a human being among human beings, and remain one forever, no matter what misfortunes befall, not to become depressed, and not to falter—this is what life is, herein lies the task. I have come to recognize this. This idea has entered my flesh and blood . . . Never until now have such rich and healthy stores of spiritual life throbbed in me.

I loved Dostoevsky first for his words (one commentator remarked that The Brothers Karamazov "seems to have swallowed a small library"). I still love those words, but more now for what they combine to mean: I love Dostoevsky for his grace and his hope, his understanding of both the redemptive quality to suffering and the incomparable experience of life despite all the darkness and doubt and the downright depravity. Like I said, raw humanity. No one does it better.

Maybe it's only the dusty heat or re-discovery of favorite mission shoes in the back of my closet, but I'm craving Indonesia these days and there's not a lot I can do about it. Except maybe wear said shoes in said heat (done and done), and also: avocado juice.

In saucepan, combine water and sugar and heat until sugar dissolves. Remove from stove top and allow to cool. Combine avocado flesh, milk, and vanilla extract in blender and blend until smooth—more milkshake-style than your typical juice consistency. Add sugar-syrup to taste (let's be honest; I usually use it all) and grated ginger if you care for that sort of kick.

Chill an hour before serving. Tall cold glass and chocolate syrup to top it off.

They said draw your favorite animal and I guess what they were looking for was fox or otter or pangolin (these are all true), but if you know Truly you'll understand.

Yesterday, while marking up my sketchbook with sharpies to finish a design project, I realized that I don't draw enough. I also don't blog enough. Considering the genuine bliss and zip that both of these efforts bring me, this is doubly sad. 

So here's the compromise: a thirty day drawing challenge. Day One: yourself.

And, since I was sitting at my kitchen table eating tapioca out of a coffee cup when I made this decision, here I am sitting at my kitchen table eating tapioca out of a coffee cup. Plus a crown of flowers in honor of June, which has been for me a month of magic from day one and counting.