Omen made flesh

Today I finally got a tattoo commemorating the conception, birth and continuing existence of my daughter Taran Jack Manley.

Four is for birth

The inspiration came from the spectacular lunar eclipse I witnessed on February 21, 2008—which is also when I got my first hint I might be pregnant. My last cycle had begun right before the full moon in January, And as my cycle is a fairly regular 26 days and I’m more likely to start early than late… Well, let’s just say that five days later I bought my first and only pregnancy test.

A quick explanation of the symbolism: the hare helps identify the red disk as the moo, but also happens to be our family’s totem animal. As for the four cloud birds —I happened to see the eclipse with clouds—they reference to the ol’ folk augury rhyme, “four is for birth.”

(Tattoo done by Matt Reed of TigerLily Tattoo, designed by me.)

The purpose of creation

If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe. -Carl Sagan

Walking into work today, the iPod selected “A Glorious Dawn” by Symphony of Science, featuring Carl Sagan, Stephen Hawking and lots and lots of Auto-Tune. It begins with the above quote which always delights me.

The idea that the cosmos was created solely so that one day there would be apple pie is a magnificent thought to me. That some deity sprung into existence thinking “mmmmm, apple pie” or that the concentrated matter that became our universe blew apart in a Big Bang with the of anticipation of the warm apple pastry.

I can’t dismiss the fact that these thoughts occur to me in large part because of my 15 month-old daughter’s absolute adoration for Symphony of Science songs. Along with the fact that I have a duty to try to explain the universe and the whys-and-where-fors to her. (Clearly I favor a similar approach as Calvin’s dad.)

Taran’s sheer devotion to these remixed songs of scientist celebrities is a constant source of pleasure for Kip and me. Her especial favorite is “We Are All Connected”; upon hearing the first strains Richard Feynman on the bongos, she will get the most beatific smile on her face and toddle towards the source of the sound, which is usually her poppa’s computer, hoping to see the trippy visuals that accompany the video of the song. If the song comes up while she’s riding in the car, Taran will start to bob and weave her head and flex her hands in imitation of Bill Nye’s “Really I’m just a SPECK!” hand jive.

Unsurprisingly, all these thoughts put an extra bounce in my step as I headed to work.

And is probably why, upon seeing Taran when she and Kip picked me up from work, I felt it necessary to pick up six to eight apples on our way home.

Made of happiness

Eight months gone

Dreamy Kali

At a bit past 4pm today, the grand dame of our felines, Kali, passed away. She went quietly, in her sleep, not 30 minutes after she was purring happily in Patrick’s lap. (Though, happily, not in Patrick’s lap.)

She had been in serious decline for about six months. Really, we thought we were going to lose her at the end of January. But she had bounced back after a round of treatment and was her normal, dairy product stealing, cat trouncing, human loving self, albeit outraged she was suddenly a strictly indoor cat.

I was hoping we’d have her ’til the end of summer, but suspected she might leave us soon when she slipped out of the house and was discovered about 5 blocks away from some very kind folks who returned her with the aid of the address on her tag. Before then she wouldn’t go more than a block from the house.

She quacked, screamed like a drowning virgin,* never met a cat she didn’t want to beat up, had clandestine friendships with German Shepards, was on constant patrol, collected people, terrorized mice, performed hammer locks on birds, was always dignified except when:

  • She jumped up on a shelf full of CDs which triggered an avalanche of said CDs. She immediately tried to run up the cascade to regain her perch. But she didn’t.
  • She’s found a particularly nice patch of sun..
  • When she met Crash, Jenn and Kevin Moore’s substantial German Shepard for the first time. She was sitting on the porch rail and, upon seeing Crash, arched up so high in rage and fear that she fell over sideways.
  • Being adored by the Boys.
  • More than once she jumped to the top of an open door and pondered vexedly how she was going to get down as she swayed back and forth.
  • And there’s lots more stories, she had been with us a long time. But here’s one last one: Kali never accepted the fact that she had to share her house with other cats. She tolerated the Boys, but never accepted the interlopers who lived downstairs. I figure that with Cicely and Roslyn having finally moved out a couple weeks back, Kali figured her work was done and she could rest easy.

    *Thanks for that always, Dylan.

    Additional

    The cat page that Kip created a while back for Kali and Ranger

    Christopher Baldwin’s collage of all our now ex-cats.

Beginning of the end of the beginning

Finally began the last part of Book 1 of Dicebox with this action packed page(permalink).

Forgive me father/mother/sister/brother it has been 43 weeks since my last update.

I just died a little there calculating the time lapse.

I actually drew 62 pages of comics during that time–just not Dicebox. Work for hire stuff, babies cost money and all that. But those pages don’t count, somehow. (I try not to think about how if they were all Dicebox pages I’d be done with Part 1 of Book 2. Nope, not thinking about it. Not me.)

All’s this to say it feels good to be actually doing updates on Diceboxagain. It feels right, even with all my dissatisfactions with this page* Actually, that feels right too.

Now as I’m still in a time of chaos and upheaval,** I will be alternating weeks with Patrick until “Don’t Look Back” finishes. I’m hoping my updates will become multipage affairs soon. Truth be told, I was hoping to make this update 4 pages in length as this is a slow passage even for me and will be more sensible and purposeful with the next three pages. Oh well, best laid plans and all that.

To sum up: I MISSED TORMENTING MY LADIES. Glad to be back to it. I feel like a whole person again.

*If you subscribe to the RSS feed, it’ll update after I correct one faux pas when I get off work)

**Not just the Kid, but some home repair that has currently left an office nomad. I can make art just about anywhere, but my work flow gets seriously disrupted which makes me less efficient.

How Taran stole the April fish

Man, I was all set to do a joke update today, sketched out the art and everything. And then, about 3 weeks back, our four month old daughter who used to sleep through til morning began waking once or twice during the night. (I feel sucker punched, here.)*

Sigh.

I really enjoy April Fool’s, look forward to smirking through out the day (example, our IT guy announced a way to reduce costs and energy usage through limited email access: Last names starting A through M will have email access 6:30 AM through 1:00 PM. Last names starting N through Z will have email access 1:00 PM through 7:30 PM.) And I was totally stoked that this year’s was on a Wednesday, my regular update day. But between the day job, freelance, baby care** and the 5 hours of sleep per night AND baby’s first shoulder dislocation this past Friday AND AND a sudden computer upgrade… just not meant to be. Not with me enjoying it, which is the whole point.

I was contemplating going with a simple “screw comics” post, but I already did that and caused unintended heartburn for some folks. And I don’t think I’m in the right mental space to pull that off, all things considered.

And I told Patrick I got this week so no update from him either, I’m afraid. Entertainingly enough, my original April Fool’s prank was to present a slick, hyper stylized, action and boob packed comic as Dicebox’s new direction. Kinda redundant now.

As penance, and a way to rev back up into Dicebox as I complete other obligations*** I will be attempting to post something in the Dicebox Process Journal at least six times a week for the month of April. I will start tonight with a one of the cleaned up and colorized sketches. And this weekend I’ll share some concept art for Book 2 that I was originally planning to share today a balm for goofiness.

Oh, and updates to Dicebox here on out: Patrick and I will be alternating every other week until he’s finished, allowing me time to ramp up fully as well for hime to wrap up this epic. And they’ll be truly Wednesday updates again! With as much material as we can manage in two weeks time.

See you on April 15th with the beginning of Dicebox Book 1: Part 9: Out of a Molehill. No fooling.

*What she really wants is to sleep in the bed with Kip and me, something I gave her a taste for when traveling–hated the crib arrangement, room temperature and we were in a king sized bed. It’s also part of her biggest growth spurt yet, not just size but mental activity and physical ability. And it’s the fact that she can now roll and hoist herself along and over things that has me firmly vetoing her sharing the bed with us. Which means a good couple of hours every night getting her to settle and go back to sleep. In her own bed/bassinet.

**By which I mean breast feeding. I produce at least a quart everyday for our little monkey girl and, man, what a time consuming, exhausting enterprise that is. Looking forward to weaning, tantrums and all. I’ve seen it compared to a part time job, seven days a week and boy they’re not kidding.

***And wean the Kid.