November 28th, 2006 § § permalink
Okko is just one of three series I’m totally stoked to be working on for Archaia Studios Press, the publishers of such innovative gems as David Petersen’s Mouse Guard, Alex Sheikman’s Robotika, and co-founder Mark Smylie’s own Artesia. Release dates, description, and preview pages here.
I turned these pages in back in August, and am currently deep into the second French volume—stuff you’ll be seeing in the April 2007 issue. This is creator Humbert Chambuel’s first series—among other things, Hub was previously a designer on the Besson film The Fifth Element. » Read the rest of this entry «
November 26th, 2006 § § permalink
I’ve returned safely and uneventfully to a Taiwan I dimly recognize as having lived in, ticking off, like the taxi meter and its miles, the landmarks between the airport and home: the signs to Taoyuan, the toll plaza, the freeway flanked by elevated routes, the buildings I remember being grey as warehouses hiding their grime in night and laying claim, with countless lighted windows, to the animation of newness. Be they wrecks in the day, patched with corrugated awnings and bristling with scaffolding whose ragged bamboo edges seem a frame exposed by rot or breach, by night they are freighters on a dark sea. We haven’t crossed the river yet, I bet myself, and when a few minutes later we do, the sight of Taipei 101 congratulates me. On a hill to the left, the Grand Hotel bright as the bathhouse in Spirited Away, and then we’re swerving southeast into town.
November 13th, 2006 § § permalink
The pomegranate is, in the sorry event you neglected to Google how to eat it before diving in, the crayfish of fruits: a chore for the fingers, with very little reward. Bites, small and few, paced by tiresome peeling and picking, are ritually punctuated by the spitting of seeds, which although edible, are bitter. Imagine an orange with the fibers of each slice enlarged, each made a sac to house a seed. The skin is neither thick nor difficult to remove. The pith peels easily away from the seed sacs. What little flesh there is—mostly liquid—jets out at the slightest pressure, staining clothes. Your tongue tries to press the remaining juice from the fibrous mass inside your mouth before giving up and relinquishing it to the plate.