Birthday Wishes

One glance into any of my notebooks is evidence enough of my doodling obsession. I like lines. I like shapes. I like black ink. I like cartoons.

My mom and grandma took me to Chicago for my 16th birthday. Of course, we visited the Art Institute of Chicago while there. Out of every amazing thing in that museum, one collection in particular (in the gift shop, no less - I don't think I even saw it on display) stood out to me because it was exactly everything I like. Quirky little line drawings and hand lettering, primarily black on white, a tad nonsensical. I read the artist's name and vowed to remember it for all time. Then I subsequently forgot it, probably when we walked into a Ghirardelli or something.

Last semester, as I was doing my customary blag loving, I came across THE SAME ILLUSTRATIONS. And I kicked myself in the head because right when I saw them I remembered that I was supposed to remember them. But, yeah, the thing that matters now is that I have been reunited with Edward Gorey, and today is his birthday, so happy birthday Mr. Gorey. Thank you for drawing weirdo things that give inspiration to other weirdos who draw weirdo things. And you know what else? He illustrated T.S. Eliot's Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. So basically he's unavoidably cool.

(but don't just take my word for it.)