This is section of a probably-just-about-finished illustration that will be in An Illustrated Guide to the Universe, which is what I currently spend every waking moment thinking about and working on (and likely every sleeping moment too). Although there is still quite a way to go, although it is hard to believe at this point that everything will come together in the shape of a book, and in spite of the fact that there won't be nearly enough stars in it? It's not going too badly.
I thought it was probably about time, time that I noted down some official-type updates for both your sake and mine, because although it may have seemed quiet on the universe front, it has been anything but.
Those of you who receive my newsletter will have heard much (arguably too much) about Brazil, where I spent the better part of two months surrounded by rainforest, finishing the draft manuscript for the book, and I'm now in the illustration-creation phase, which is quite a lot messier. It is a long and ink-covered road, and it's possible I fell in love with the soon-to-be-book all over again when I made a final paper decision—Fabriano, 140lb Hot Pressed Watercolour.
While I can't show you a whole lot of what I'm doing (really anything at all), I will do my best to show you the small pieces that matter. Maybe that's all anyone ever can see—small pieces that matter.
I lost the colours at some point.
I don’t remember who, but I was talking to somebody about the hardness of water, the softness of it, the way it can take things over with just atoms in space, in time. Watching them peel back the thin metallic paper that wrapped around the butter, thinking that must hurt, thinking of how awfully cold everything in the fridge must be. I rest my head, heavy from the dense leaves and ripening fruit inside it, on the warm wooden countertop, feeling small crumbs and other fractions of breakfast press their sharp edges into my face.
(Extract from a longer piece, which I'm looking forward to sharing with you.)