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“No writing is wasted. Did you know that sourdough from San Francisco is leavened partly by a bacteria called lactobacillus sanfrancisensis? It is native to the soil there, and does not do well elsewhere. But any kitchen can become an ecosystem. If you bake a lot, your kitchen will become a happy home to wild yeasts, and all your bread will taste better. Even a failed loaf is not wasted. Likewise, cheese makers wash the dairy floor with whey. Tomato gardeners compost with rotten tomatoes. No writing is wasted: the words you can’t put in your book can wash the floor, live in the soil, lurk around in the air. They will make the next words better.”
— ERIN BOW
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linocut study of the poster for the 1924 film orlacs hände :-)
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A collection of diving birds.
A kingfisher, a pelican, an osprey, and a booby.
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David Wire, 1970.
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Sybil Andrews - Tillers of the Soil (1934)
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"Dance, Flora, dance the hornpipe!"
Post Captain
this episode felt like a bizarre fanfiction
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I'll show you where the white lilies grow
On the banks of Italy
I'll show you where the white fishes swim
At the bottom of the sea
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I'm so fond of these two 1924 photos taken by William Tripp of the crew of the whaling bark Wanderer because they were clearly taken in the same moment but the fellow in the front second from the right was like 'wait, the cat!'. Or, alternatively, he was holding the cat first and the cat was like 'I'm not sticking around for this'.
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I like the expression new-fangled. I don't know what it means for something to be fangled, but I sure as hell know it was recent
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it’s Gimli’s turn to tell the nightly tale
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it is indeed maundy thursday, so there is no better time to post this sonnet by gay wwi-poet wilfred owen. i love, love the contrast between the cold, dead crucifix and the warm live hand that is kissed directly (more analysis here)
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a cold one with the boys
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Aaaa, my ghost as drawn by one of my longtime favorite artists, Gris Grimly. Look at him…
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Happy Going to Weather Wednesday!
Beginning of Update
Beginning of Comic
Also on Tapas
This month's update commences with a close to Barzillai's haunting--for now--but the bargains made a decade agone have yet to be revealed. Latter part, Lawrence Manner settles into his role as ship's doctor. So ends.
If you need something to read while waiting for the next update, here's a historical context essay I wrote about medical care aboard whaleships.
As always, patreon supporters get early access to the next pages throughout the month, as I finish them. Otherwise, we'll be cutting in and trying out once more in May!
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