Studio Scrawls: Lost Mittens

Here's the truth I'd like to believe about lost mittens: they miss you.  

Greetings from the land of lost mittens. 

Greetings from the land of lost mittens. 

#tbt What We Save

In 1979 I moved to Iowa City, Iowa, with only a backpack and a portfolio. Later my mother sent me my old Camp Hochelaga footlocker which I had packed with my winter clothes before I left home. My mother died a few years later. The footlocker went on to house the linoleum blocks I used to illustrate my letterpress books. Back in the days when our children were small and we were cramped for space, I stored it in our garage. Camp footlockers  were not built to last forever. Before mine was emptied and hauled to the dump, I ripped off the return address label my mother had used decades ago. It's what I saved. A reminder of when 37 Point View Drive, Troy, New York, was my home, when I could still count on my mother being there.