This morning my friend Patty sent me a link to a food blog that I had never heard of. So, like any good student of the web, I scrolled through, clicked links and basically enjoyed what I saw. Just when I was about to get back to work, I happened on this beast. This is the world’s largest gummy worm. Measuring well over 2 feet in length, weighing in at a mind-blowing, tooth-rotting 3 whole pounds and putting you way over your daily intake limit at 4000 calories!!! It’s positively scandalously vulgar. But, what fun to receive this on February 14th from your beloved instead of that typical heart-shaped chocolate thing. For more info go here.

Moving is the pits, but there is an upside to all the dusting and wrapping and packing: unearthing forgotten treasures — things you thought were lost or disposed of in the last move — and remembering the history behind those objects. Here are three little packets of pure pigments I bought many years ago on a stopover trip to South Korea. I remember going into that little art shop with the ulterior motive of asking where I could find a good lunch spot. I speak no Korean and the store owner spoke no English. But, somehow, I managed to convey my request. Before I knew it, he had summoned his boyish assistant and, in a lengthy description, instructed him on where to take me. What ensued was a scene out of a film: running down long alleys, in and out of tunnels, up and down stairwells. At one point we even passed through a store, front entrance to rear exit. Finally, thrillingly, I ended up in a tiny, windowless, wood-paneled restaurant. Few meals have been better than that one.

A few days ago I got word that Simon Monk, whose work I featured here not that long ago, has put out a limited edition of archival prints of his “Secret Identity” paintings. The secret identity references the real-life names of familiar and beloved superheroes from our collective past. I’m not ashamed to admit that my highest personal admiration goes out to Peter Parker, aka Spiderman, even though for anyone who read the first post about Simon’s work, you’ll know that Speed Racer was the manboy who stole my six year old heart away. Anyhoo, I really love this series, along with Simon’s other work. It is subversive and funny, technically compelling and even a titch sad. So, even if you aren’t in a position to buy a print, please do check out his site.

Not too long ago, my friend Theresa, a graphic designer, took a class in the art of the pointed pen style of calligraphy. Copperplate, to be specific. While I am impressed by proficiency and dexterity (both of which she possesses in the extreme), I am always more captivated by the process. The practice pages she showed to me one night over dinner won my heart. She very generously lent them to me. I hate to have cropped them, but the format here on Mrs. Easton isn’t well-suited to the landscape image.

I am in the process of packing and moving most of my art supplies to our place upstate and into my new studio. Woot!!! (Hopefully this explains the infrequent postings.) I have a teeny tiny office space here in Brooklyn, but now I finally have the chance to spread out and work in a different way, and on multiple projects at once. The plan is to keep things confined to computer and sketch pad here in the city. I am beyond excited to be digging into the full-scale messiness of the design process. Most of all…I am over the moon about not having to clean up at the end of the day. In the midst of all this sorting and boxing up, I came across my paintbrush roll. A bamboo mat with strips of elastic woven through it in order to keep the brushes secured. It seems to be an item from another life.

Around the same time that the various Chinese bus companies in lower Manhattan started serving interstate travelers, my husband and I started noticing these overstuffed, disc-shaped, sesame seed-crusted buns popping up at many of the food stands underneath the Manhattan bridge. I heard that the best ones were available in the basement of the Triple 8 Mall under the bridge, and that I should refer to them as Bing – which I believe is short for Shaobing. I ventured underground and bought a couple of them from a woman who was duly baffled by my presence. I was instantly hooked. They were tasty and satisfying and fit our limited budget. There were several varieties of Bing, but the trouble was, there was no menu and I couldn’t figure out what filling was inside any given pastry. Because of our mutual language barrier, the owner wasn’t able to shine any light on the puzzle. I knew there was a code to be revealed in the placement of the black sesame seeds, but I was firmly at a loss to break it. At around the same time, I heard that there was a place out in Queens that specialized in these little treats, both savory and sweet. I hopped on the subway, made my way to a shop called Unique Pastry and bought one of each kind. I subsequently made this crib sheet so that I could quickly and easily decipher the contents of whatever Bing I happened to find. Shortly thereafter, this piece appeared in the NY Times.

All week long (really, it’s two weeks long, but we’ll confine it to one) it’s Chinese New Year. In honor of said holiday, I dug these beauties out of my files. I wish I could find the companion postcards to these two images. They were published by Quantity Postcards out of San Francisco, but way back in the eighties. I found this link and this link to the site (you have to scroll down to find the images), but I wish there were more.