Petra

 

On Friday, November 19th, in the wee hours of the morning and at the end of a lunar eclipse, our own Petra Luna sauntered—not to say leapt— out from behind the curtain and onto the Great Stage to the sound of applause and into a host of loving arms. 

She’s beautiful and perfect and I love her.* 

And it’s scary, though. This time, at this late hour, after tragedy and heartbreak and with much of my youthful brashness worn away, it’s more frightening than it’s ever been before. The weight of love.

One of the things that Ida’s death left me with was an ever-present awareness of how quickly everything can change. 

Here’s another many-months-old scrap from my journal:

*even though, like all babies, she is notoriously difficult to draw.

Zoo Lines

 Not exactly? Not remotely!

My daughter, Angelica, has a birthday on Friday. 

She will turn 19. 

My brain can't seem to wrap itself around this idea. But one of the things she asked for was that I drive down to the Smithsonian Zoo with her to spend an afternoon sketching the animals. This, at least, was an idea my brain could figure out. In fact it was the perfect piece of continuity to celebrate my curious, fiercely scientific first daughter. She has been, and continues to be, perhaps the most consistently single-minded person I have ever known. Her love for the natural world is both pragmatic and deeply passionate. She's brilliant. She's frustrating. She is, simply, a wonder. 

Our day began with a morning run to the post office before we headed out toward DC. There was a peeping from behind the counter and my post office friend explained to me that there was a box of chicks that had arrived the day before and had not been picked up. Angelica was quick to offer to claim the (possibly) homeless chicks. We didn't, but it reminded me of when she was just two years old and we brought home a batch of little peeps for the first time. She kept squatting down to kiss them. That is one of those rare moments that etches itself onto the firmware of the brain. I look at that moment and think "that is where it started."

And I can't wait to see where it goes from here. 

Lessons from a Goat

How did it come to this?

In my experience this is the kind of question you ask yourself on a steamy August morning when you have your arms around a urine-soaked goat, when the smell is ripe, and you’re struggling to hoist it into a makeshift harness hanging from the rafters. 

I never intended to have goats in my life. They just sort of wandered in. 

Well, the truth is that we do have a nice, flat yard. And we had a pretty aggressive and thorny blackberry hedge growing along the back fence. So when some friends sold their old Virginia farm and moved into town we took on their goats. There were three white females and old Gruffy. 

We’re gonna come back to Gruffy. 

We put up a solar powered electric fence to keep them from wandering off. The fence never seemed to work, and I also never really understood how it worked. We also didn’t know that two of the three females were pregnant. I found that out when my daughter called me one Saturday as I was driving back from yoga, to say that something was …happening with one of the goats. That was an interesting Saturday. 

So then for awhile we had baby goats, and they were cute. I mean aggressively cute. It wasn’t natural. But they were also impossible to contain. They were no end of trouble. 

So we ended up giving all the goats, except for old Gruffy, to a family that was much more equipped to care for them (as we were loading them for transport, one of the baby goats gave me a parting gift of getting loose and head-butting the crap out of my van’s windshield). 

All that was a few years ago. Since then it’s just been Gruffy and his special lady friend. His special lady friend is a sheep, by the way. She's sweet and fluffy, and I find their relationship charming as hell. (I’m the last one to separate the sheep and the goats.) I still grumbled about having a goat in my yard, though. You know, from time to time...

Then, in the hottest part of this last summer, Gruffy got sick. 

He stopped eating. He lost clumps of hair. He got terribly, terribly thin. He stopped standing up. 

He was in pretty bad shape when I put him on a tarp and dragged him from the back of the field to the shade in the tree by the back door. I was pretty sure he had parasites, so I bought goat dewormer and fed it to him. It didn’t seem to help. I was pretty sure Gruffy was going to die. 

What do you do with a dead goat? I wondered.

We called a vet to come look at him. 

The vet arrived in a big, white truck. He was just what you’d hope for in a country vet—calm and friendly, but not chatty—clearly more interested in the animal than the people connected to it. He gave Gruffy a shot of *real* medicine (apparently it was amateur hour with my deworming pellets). And then he told us that Gruffy might recover, but he really was in pretty bad shape. And he told us what we’d have to do for the goat every day. 

And so I found myself, in the back half of August, working with Gruffy every day. It wasn’t just feeding and watering. He needed to be lifted up and held in a standing position. He needed his legs massaged to get the blood back into them. He needed to relearn how to walk. Even when laying down he needed to be flipped from one side to another throughout the day. In the mornings he was soaked in his own filth. He smelled just awful. 

I smelled just awful. 

I washed up as much as I could but Gruffy had a pungency that really stuck to you. You’d get little whiffs of it. 

I grumbled a lot. Sometimes to myself, but more often out loud. But I wasn’t working alone. We all worked together to help Gruffy. I was just the most complainy about it. 

Eventually we dragged him into a shed and I rigged a sort of harness from the rafters so that he could stand for longer stretches of time without having me right there to stop him from falling. We gathered branches of vitamin-rich leaves to feed him. 

And he got better. He started walking on his own. He stopped needing the harness. He fattened back up. 

We had a nice, sturdy fence installed to enclose the field. A proper farm fence. 

Gruffy is out there now, with his lady friend (her name is Stella). They are munching happily on Autumn grass. It’s all pretty damn idyllic. I even made them supporting characters in the book I’m working on (under different names—the last thing I need is a legal battle with farm animals). 

How did it come to this?

I don’t actually think there’s a better question. I think it’s just about whether or not you can laugh when you ask it. 

Frog Pond

 So my dad started a youtube account.

What's that?

Why yes, it is a funny time to have parents, isn't it?

He’s an architect, this dad of mine, and so that’s what his videos are about. It’s a series of short stories and tidbits from the history and practice of architecture. Here’s one that I like a lot—it’s about various methods used to adjust the movement in very tall buildings:

Here’s another one about the legend of how the Corinthian column developed and how that eventually lead to one of the most famous drawings in history:

I love these videos. I love them because some of them surprise me and also because some of them—the rivalry between Bernini and Borromini, for instance—are stories I’ve heard many times before (though, being a dad myself, I realize now that part of the job is telling the same story a thousand times but always with the same invincible innocence, like it’s brand new). 

I also love these videos because I love my dad, and these are very much him.*

It was my dad, of course, who first taught me that drawing is not just fun, but a very fundamental and powerful way to communicate. When I’d ask a question he more often than not he’d grab a notecard and a pen from his front shirt pocket and draw the idea out (he always wears button-down shirts, often pink, and always with pens and notecards in the pocket).

So if you enjoy these, feel free to like and subscribe.

*Okay, I also love that you can see the full series DVD collection of Thundercats in the background, but you didn’t hear that from me. 

Everything I Need

Hello Gravagna Montale. I'd forgotten how much I loved you.

The picture above is my little studio space for the summer. It's a simple space that has everything I need for the project at hand and very little more.

There is a door, for coming in and going back out. There is a window that looks out onto a courtyard and the mountains beyond. The window is for daydreaming, but it also doubles as a light table for tracing (I've been doing more tracing and less dreaming lately). I have one big table full of pens and pencils and paper and sketchbooks. I have a computer, and a scanner and an internet connection that allows me to send the words and pictures from my table out into the wide world (or at least to my editor). I have a pair of quality headphones which, when the need arises, I use to tune out the distractions of my boisterous family.

I have a very specific task this summer. I'm working on a graphic novel called Mighty Jack. The book is completely written and I have a complete draft drawn out in thumbnail sketches -I had that part all finished before I came here. My job this summer is to turn those 200 pages of rough sketches into 200 pages of finished art. I'm fine tuning the story in small ways as I go, but mostly it's steady, quiet work.

Mighty Jack is the story of three young people and a magic garden. Here's some early concept art:

The style and characters have developed a bit and look a little more like this now:

I said I had everything I need here for the job I'm doing but there is one thing I'm missing. I used my own house as a model for Jack's house. I took plenty of reference photos before I came here, but it would have been nice to draw a scene or two from life like I did with Little Robot.

Anyway, here are a few more pictures from the past couple weeks:

Hidden Away

The No-Longer-So-Little Hatke Family has arrived in the magical village of Gravagna Montale, where we will be hiding away for the summer. And I am just now fully back online after a brief (and cleansing) hiatus.

It's good to be hidden up in the mountains for a little while. For the next few months I will be drawing comics pages like they are gong out of style (which I hope they never do) and the girls will be hunting lizards, eating gelato and jumping in mountain streams.

As promised here is a first batch of pictures, these from our journey from Virginia to New York and from New York to Gravagna. For more I suggest following Anna Bertolini's Instagram feed.

And finally, in book-news, here's a link to a short video from Book Con, where I answer some questions about my next-to-be-available graphic novel Little Robot:

http://video.dptv.org/video/2365504621/

And here is another video where I am playing host in a conversation with Jeff Smith, Raina Telgemeier and Jenni Holm:

http://video.dptv.org/video/2365504639/

More to come!

Summer Changes

As I write this the Little Hatke House is full of the chaos and bustle of bags being packed and last minute arrangements being made. We are returning to Italy. We are, my heart tells me, returning home, to our little village of Gravagna Montale, after three long years away. 

We are leaving tomorrow.

We'll be staying in Gravagna for June, July and August and if you're interested in keeping an eye on us, I'm planning (well, hoping) to post a photo a day on Twitter and Facebook. I'll collect the pictures into weekly batches here on the blog. 

And while the girls are exploring mountain paths and hunting lizards in the rocks I will be drawing, drawing, drawing the pages of my next graphic novel, Mighty Jack. This book has put me up against one of the most challenging deadlines I've ever faced, but I'll be working in the same place where I drew most of the 3rd Zita book, so I'm hopeful...

And so we're off down the road again! I hope you'll follow along.

Superthanks

I'm just popping in to say a huge THANK YOU to everyone who bought art from my etsy shop over the past months. I have now officially arranged to have our little outbuilding turned into a new studio space. This was made possible, in no small part, because of all of you.

Over the weekend I began clearing out the space for transformation. I removed all the junk we've been storing in there, pulled down the broken shelving, and swept out at least the first layer of filth. As you can see, I haven't yet had the heart to take down my punching bag.

I'm also getting professional help with this project, which seems like the most luxurious thing in the world.

And so, if all goes according to plan, I should be able to move in by Fall. So, once again, THANK YOU.

Swords and Arrows and Fire

Spring is drifting toward Summer here in Hatkeland, and I've been having some fun adventures.

A couple weeks ago I helped my friends at Mirandum Pictures with a shoot that involved a sword fight. I'm honestly not much of a swordsman, but it was pretty simple stuff. And what's more fun than dressing up an clashing blades in a fancy garden? As a bonus I think we're going to use the picture below as the author photo for Nobody Likes a Goblin.

Another thing that comes with spring is arrows. Back in my SCA days my dad would take my sisters and me out to my grandpa's farm where we'd practice archery using some stacked straw bales as a target. Now I have some straw bales of my own and I'm teaching my girls how to handle a bow. Here's Zita and Angelica:

And here's Julia:

I've also been doing some of my own Arrow-speriments. Including:

Punching Ball Arrow:

and Exploding Arrow:

And finally, this past weekend I was able to fulfill a long-time dream of mine: fire breathing at the top of Buzzard Rock. The Rock is a mountain ridge in the George Washington National Forest that comes to a rocky, blade-like point. I've climbed up there many times, searching for wisdom or just a nice view, but I've always wanted to be up there after the sun set, spitting fire into the twilight. Now, thanks to some very patient friends, I can cross that off my list (photo by Colin Mason):

That said, the hike was rough. Three grown men and not a one of us remembered to bring water. We started late and so had to book through the whole hike to catch the very last gasps of daylight. We hiked down with a single flashlight to save us from being utterly lost in the pitch black woods. At least we didn't run across any bears.

Welcome back Summer. I missed you.

Ida Penthea

Something kind of big has happened since I last blogged. The Hatkes have welcomed a new member into their ranks. My girls have a new sister to fawn over, and to draw into their adventures. She is Ida Penthea, fifthborn of the Hatke Clan.

Here are a few sketches:

(for baby photos try Anna's Instagram)

And here are some other recent odds and ends which have mostly been posted already on Tumblr and Twitter:

Still here? Good. I've been thinking about this year, and about last year. 2014 was a very exciting and very public year for me. I had two books released (Legends of Zita and Julia's House). I went to a lot of festivals and conventions. I got to meet hundreds of people. My French publisher invited me to Angouleme. I managed to turn in a graphic novel (Little Robot). We became the owners of the old farmhouse we'd been renting for 4 years, and we found out that we were expecting a baby...

I knew this year was going to be different. Last year was a year of adventure; this is a year of work. Little Ida was born and I'll be traveling a lot less. Little Robot comes out on September first and until then I plan to have my head down here at home, working on the next graphic novel.

But I'm going to try to post more often around here. There's a whole spate of new projects that are going to be announced during Children's Book Week in May, which is exciting. And I'll post other stuff here in the meantime.

For now, here's Wonder Woman:

Sent from my iPad

Top o' the Summer

Summer is winding down now, isn't it? I'm always sad when summer starts to fade. Even though Autumn touches my soul with its beauty, I think its Summer that I was born for and where I am most at home.

It's been a quietish summer this year at House Hatke, and we've tried to be more like Ants than Grasshoppers for a change. Still, the summer has had its moments. The video below shows one of my favorite moments of this summer: spinning fire poi at Cristina's Cafe 6th anniversary party:

20140819 213333 from Ben Hatke on Vimeo.

Here's to summer!

My Friend Giuseppe

I'm very sad to be posting a second memorial here in such a short time, but I learned that another of the great characters in my life has left the stage. Giuseppe Costa, our neighbor in Gravagna and my good friend, has passed away. He left me with some amazing, hilarious and wonderful memories, but the memories... they don't seem anything like enough to cover his absence.

Giuseppe and I were separated by many years. We first met when I was in my 20s and he was in his 70s, but he was jumping around and singing and doing handstands and I remember thinking "that's the kind of old man I want to be." He was my elder, sort of, but he wasn't my teacher or colleague or a family member. He was my friend.

I can go back to Gravagna, but I'll never again look up from my work on a slow summer afternoon and hear him singing in his garden across the way.

I wanted to set down some of my memories of Giuseppe ... but if I start down that road we'll either be here all day, or I'll sell the man short. Because even though he couldn't have been even five and a half feet tall Giuseppe was larger than life. He was the kind of guy who told stories that couldn't possibly be true, except they usually would turn out to be true. So instead, here's a short comic from around the last time I saw him:

And here's a very, very short snippet of video from a little neighborhood dinner. Giuseppe is singing, as usual. As always.

Peacock in a Scarf

Yesterday morning Julia (age 5) brought me this charming little drawing of a peacock wearing a scarf:

I love this picture. And so, when I sat down to do my own little warmup sketch for the day, I decided to try my hand at my own Peacock in a Scarf. It kind of moved out of "warm up sketch" territory and into "I'm spending too much time on this when I should be drawing pages of my book" territory, but I'm happy with how it turned out.

Even if it doesn't have as much character as Julia's version.

Shrinky Dink Comics

One of the most popular gifts in the Little Hatke House this year was a couple of packages of blank shrinky dink paper.

Shrinky Dinks, as it ways on the wikipedia page, "are a children's toy and activity kit consisting of large flexible sheets which, when heated in an oven, shrink to small hard plates without altering their color or shape. They reached the height of their popularity in the 1980s. Most sets are pre-printed with outline images of popular children's characters or other subjects, which are then colored in before baking."

I remember coloring in and baking Smurf-themed Shrinky Dinks, but to sell the blank sheets for drawing and crafting is pretty genius. The girls were kind enough to spare a sheet for me and so I filled it with boxes of unrelated drawings that you can rearrange into various tiny comics. So here are a few of my Shrinky Dink Comics. (I can't promise that any of these make a lot of sense):