Nine Days and Counting to New York City

Next Saturday, May 14th, I board an airplane headed for New York City. It will be my first solo flight since my son was born four years ago, and the thing I'm perhaps most excited about is having eight uninterrupted hours of time to sit and read whatever cheesy sci-fi/romance novel I pick up at Powells.
 
I'll be going to NYC for two shows: Surtex (licensing) and the National Stationery Show, both held at the Javits Center in Manhattan. I've never been to either, and have no real plan other than to wander around and soak it all in. I will be able to meet a couple of folks in person to whom I've licensed images, so that's pretty exciting. There's also at least one party to attend, and my agent will have a booth at Surtex with some of my artwork (#408, if you'd like to come by).

I've also tacked on two days at the end of the trip for archival work. Scanning images in archives is more prep work than perhaps you'd imagine. I've spent weeks emailing and calling a dozen different archivists to figure out what I can and cannot bring (camera, scanner, tri-pod, etc.), what I can access, what might be in storage, and above all the intricacies of seeking permission to use the archival material in my own artwork. I have my eye on some amazing vintage travel posters and French postcards, so depending on what I end up with I'll definitely share.

A very wise woman once told me that attending a trade show is almost always worth it for your business. Last year at the Craft and Hobby Show (CHA)--my first trade show for piddix ever--I came away with my agent, who has been amazing to work with. This year I'm not 100% sure what to expect, but I am most definitely very, very excited to be going. I hope to write a bit about my experience and the shows, so if anyone has any questions about what it's like to attend them, definitely send them my way.

Confessions of a Completist

I'm a completist. Not so much in the sense that I always finish what I start. In fact I wish that were more often the case. But more along the lines that when I start something, I want to do every single aspect of it thoroughly.

Let's take the example of a great book from 1912 with 300 steam engine parts. Instead of picking the 30 or 40 best engravings, which really should be all that I need, I will sit and scan all 300 ... just in case. In case of what exactly, I'm not quite sure.

So last week when I went to my favorite archive in the world--the one where I travel 1700 miles each way and only visit twice a year--I was prepared. I stopped by earlier in the week for several hours to narrow down my focus to about 100 colored plates that I knew I wanted. I told myself I would be steadfast in my determination and stick to just the 100 best to scan.

And of course you know what happened when I went back with my scanner. I spent the first several hours wandering around in complete bliss, pulling out all kinds of ephemera until I had amassed literally 3000 different colored plates, engravings, chromolithographs, and other fun bits. Then I proceeded to spend the next two hours whittling it down, and then the final few hours madly scanning as much as I could as quickly as I could.

In the end I was exhausted from hauling everything around, covered in a thick layer of red dust from all the crumbling books, and completely content.

Because while I'm not quite sure what I will ever do with this:
I also found these:
And these:

It was a lovely haul, including 31 really grubby botanical engravings from 1846; another 12 German floral sets from the early 1900s; almost 15 bird eggs, another 15 bird nests; and nearly 100 French Fashion plates. Many of the scans I may never do anything with. But so much of the joy is in the discovery. And at least I will have them ... just in case.