#010

The Maple Tree

As I stare out the window looking for inspiration about what to write, I see the silver maple in my front yard, and I think of how great things come to be. Great things are slow in coming, growing at a steady yet patient pace. It is not until far down the road when we see how much we have really grown. I hope this blog will mirror that in some way, if not the horribly twisted Dark Link version of a mirror. This week in the Twin Cities area the snow has disappeared before the heat wave of 40 degrees. I didn’t even need a coat for church. The maple is looking damp and cold, bare of any leaves whatsoever, even a descent blanket of snow for modesty’s sake. In this way I for one am glad we are not like trees. I much prefer my flannel and cozy chair to the cold ground of a Minnesotan December.

The Art

This week I only had some sketches and thumbnails to offer from the current short story, so I decided to draw from this week’s Inktober52 prompt, Krampus. For those unaware, Krampus is like the antonym of St. Nicholas. Some sources say he traveled with St. Nick, the saint awarding good children and Krampus swatting the bad with birch rods. Other sources say he traveled the world before St. Nick, on Dec 5, the day before St. Nick’s celebrations. It made sense in the mind of this geek to have them duking it out. The style with they fight is known as Old-School boxing, and it has some interesting history (based on a 5-min read on my part). The reason for the strange pose was that, in the late 19th to early 20th centuries, boxer didn’t wear gloves, but fought bare-knuckle style. This meant that head shots were rare, due to the fact that one can hurt one’s hand against another’s skull. And so the arms were low, to protect from blows to the kidney and groin, and to gauge the distance between combatants. Read about it here:

https://www.john-woodbridge.com/en/module/smartblog/details?id_post=103&srsltid=AfmBOoq_JWFNTw-BExl0MbZ54BBZHJ-MlFNYFQpo-Hg4SGdEWw9rhkXI

In my drawing, I had not read about the bare-knuckles bit, but even now I wouldn’t change it–I enjoy the gloves too much.

Bill, the White Pine

In our family, we are great fans of A Charlie Brown Christmas. If you have not seen this, then you are not doing Christmas right. (I’m sorry, but it’s true, especially since Charles Schulz was a Minnesotan). During Sunday’s Christmas-themed service, our pastor spoke about the plight of Charlie, frustrated because no-one knew what Christmas was really about. Then he went on to elaborate, as pastors do. But the part of that show I remember the most fondly was that role played by the small pine tree. In our front yard, we had planted a white pine and dubbed it “Bill” for reasons only known to the five-year-old in the family. But the name stuck, and this year he is big enough to decorate with lights, and seeing him in the yard, glowing festively away, I am reminded of what my pastor said (approximately):

“…And Charlie picks the smallest tree, the humble one. Not one of those aluminum trees covered in tinsel and spray-paint, but the lone sproutling, barely able to support it’s own weight.”

All things come from humble beginnings. Bill, one day, will outgrow even the towering maples in the same yard. I think it is important to not forget those times pf humility, to remember that we are not so great after all. I don’t like being preachy (or peachy); I literally couldn’t think of anything else to write about. This is the curse of the blogist, to have so much on the mind yet nearly all of it not suited to mass-consumption, whether because of inanity, profoundness, cheesyness, or being overly intimate. Honestly my brain is melting after all of this writing.

The Long Road

I am wondering if these posts are too short. I also wonder if I should want to write more about the art itself, about the technique and the process. Worth a shot. This is only the tenth episode, and I hope this is the beginning of a long road of art. Interested to see what this blog looks like on post #100. I hope you all see the sun this week, and that you spread the word of Inkbeard. (Seriously guys, marketing is hard). Farewll.