HEY I drew lots of creatures with wiggly ears and snuffly noses for Flying Eye Books last year, and the snazzy hardcover book is officially out this month in the UK! It hits shelves later in the year (June/July) in Australia and America, but available now for preorder. Huge thanks to Pippa Goodhart and Flying Eye!!
//NEW UPDATE WOOP WOOP. As I said before, I’m fiddling around with the format. I thought maybe adding the text ‘in’ the update might be easier instead of reading it on the tumblr post? You let me know. Asks are super appreciated!
I think Jon would legit be a very good Spock, or even Odo! (I also adore Weyoun, I think Barclay is presh and the Romulan Commander is fab). I decided to stop here though haha ///’) Before my Trekkie-ness got carried away ;’)
wasn’t normally a guy who daydreamed about sweets — a cheeseburger with the
works from his favorite diner was more his culinary fantasy style, but this
cupcake… it was something else. It was the last of the batch Sally had made for
his birthday a week ago, one of a dozen blue velvet, vanilla cream-filled,
buttercream frosted confectionery masterpieces. His mom might’ve baked ambrosia
straight into them, because Percy had never tasted dessert that good
outside of Olympus.
cupcake was the type of food to be held on to and savored on bad days, when a
sugary piece of comfort could make the world a bit brighter.
had been one of those days for Percy. The last leg of his shift at the
firehouse had exhausted him, mentally and physically. It’d been fire call after
fire call today, most of them for overloading and smoking cooling systems
rather than anything truly serious, but gearing up and going out into
Manhattan’s August heat had everyone in the station on edge and grumpy. Only
the thought of the cupcake, sitting in his fridge, just waiting for him,
kept Percy in a semi-reasonable mood.
the cupcake was not, in fact, waiting for him in the fridge when he got home
Somehow, the cupcake had found its way out of the fridge and into the hands (and
mouth) of his girlfriend.
Annabeth said waving to him from where she leaning against the fridge. She
blithely unwrapped the silvery liner around the cupcake with her other hand.
“How was work?”
I have, of late, been working on divine law and the insufficiencies of human reason. and today, every person still smiling in the streets of London was an incomprehensibility.
the sky above the city, too, was beyond my ken, rising from pink-blue in the east to blue-pink-red in the west, touching Westminster just out of my field of view. a disconcerting beauty of an evening, walking - avoiding the Tube - miles from the isolation of the British Library, where you can’t hear the rain, to the bunker of a lecture hall beneath the Globe Theatre.
as the light dropped, the encroaching evening seemed to hang still in the not-winter not-spring air. I will remember that stillness, the perfect Turner painting of the sky against the calm, dark Thames. the clouds hung in space, the cranes above the City still. fewer people than usual, no end of the day hubbub.
except for a lone saxophonist, ignored by the tourists and Blackfriars-bound commuters. jazz drifted up to the pink-blue sky and down upon two armed police, nodding at the few passersby making eye contact. the strains barely rippled the wine-still Thames.
the devastating stillness of the sky held my gaze, some kind of brightness left in the day. but I blinked, and broke the spell, and it all changed. a moment. and the pall dropped. but I will remember that sky, and that single line of music.
why, God, this beautiful evening?
on the tenth anniversary of 9/11, I spent the day googling, desperately trying to put the narrative to an event I don’t remember as anything but historical fixity. and today, five and a half years older, I walked down Gray’s Inn Road refreshing news feeds. ghoulishly, perhaps, I scanned articles with increased death counts, trying to find out who and how. I tried to establish what and when and why.
because this was an incomprehensibility. a gap in my ability to understand the world around me and I frantically tried to close it, fill it with fact and argument and reason. because reason is man’s arsenal against everything.
Calvin said we can’t comprehend divine law, and perhaps that’s the fact of it. the divinity of humans - our mindless, unquenchable capacity - is beyond all reason. because reason is man’s arsenal against everything except the beast that is himself.
and so that’s probably why I sat silently and still on the bus home, between emotions and between moments in whatever epoch historians will call this time. tacitly asking. quietly uncomprehending. motionless in my realisation of the impossibility of explaining human evil.
Photo by @TimLaman. Red-crowned Cranes waking up at dawn on the Setsuri River, #Hokkaido, Japan. People always tell me that photos I took on this particular morning some years ago look like paintings. I guess when people say that about a photo, it’s a compliment….. always trying to elevate the artistic aspects of a photograph. Follow @TimLaman to see more of Hokkaido’s Winter Wildlife.
Japanese conservationists have done a great job of bringing back Red-crowned Cranes from the brink of extinction to up over 1000 resident birds today. But now there is no more breeding habitat to expand the population further. It’s a little sad that there is only space for 1000 cranes in Japan… and how many people? #Winter, #birds, #EndangeredSpecies, #Red-crownedCranes, #Japan, @NatGeoCreative, @thephotosociety, @TimLaman. by natgeo