comfort. joy. holy family. baby boy.

trying to thrive. city life.

"never give up, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn"

-harriet beecher stowe

the space between us is sacred

album cover for compilation cd to benefit S.A.F.E. - (Stop Abuse For Everyone) - a national abuse awareness association.

featuring the music of aaron roche, tyler james, berry, the silent film, kelly latimore, nate henricks, me, and many others.

$5.oo

all proceeds go to http://www.safe4all.org/

contact me if you're interested!

inside the dreams of katie bogdanowicz

upon the fertile plains of asia

hadessa's office mural

accessories thanks to the thrift store.
blingbling.

some new engravings/burnings

foliage of some sort


dan
cox

in wilderness

while in milwaukee

"a manifestation"


front door sign.




"marshallterristephanievanessajared"

first woodcut.

the print



the block


the morning my kit arrived.
oh what a feeling.

favorite watercolors of the summer

"eiffel towers can't break us"

"inspiratin: caitlin daniel"

"etta's rules of etiquette #15"

(for rachel brown)

red.green.yellow

papyrus entry #3

katie bogdanowicz's dream.

I went to sleep that night with purple rings of tired under my eyes. In my hands I grasped my camera.
In the beginning there was nothing…just a dull white room. Whiteness like bleach. It stung my eyes so I closed them—and then I felt a mighty wind rush over me.
I hesitantly opened an eye. I was surprised to find that I was in the middle of a great big field. I’m not sure if you know what Lupin are, but I’ll try to describe them. It’s a type of flower, kind of like fox gloves, they are purple, pink, or white. This field was brimming with them along with yellow daffodils and bright, vibrant green grass.
In the distance, there was a great big tree with a beautiful pale bark and deep crimson leaves. So, I waded through the thick field and up to it. The way the grass and flowers swayed, you could see the wind skimming and swimming over them, like silvery fingers playing on the surface of the smooth, green blanket over the ground. It blew my hair, which was long and dark brown, like it was when I was much younger. I was aware that I was wearing a bright yellow, cotton dress; it buttoned up my chest and fanned out below the waist. Ideal for twirling in. Around my neck hung my camera, glinting in the pale shafts of sunlight.
When I finally made my long ascent up the hill, I found the massive tree to be much larger than I expected. It was probably seventy feet high, with enormous knots and knobs. The bark was smooth, despite the bulbous knobs and upon closer inspection I discovered that the knobs were actually faces, because, as I began to climb the tree, one of them started coughing.
Quite indignantly, quoth the face upon the knob upon the tree, “What do you expect you’re doing, girl?” It had a think Irish accent.
I sat down in surprise into a soft patch of moss. The mushrooms growing by the roots were as large and thick as my legs. They were red and spotted and I found I could settle upon the top of one quite comfortably, if I pretended it was a chair.
The knob-faces were all contorting and twisting this and that way to get a better look at me.
“There hasn’t been a human here for years!” Exclaimed a mottled face that rather sounded like an old Russian woman.
“Ye’d best be careful,” warned an old, garbled southern man, “This tree will just as soon eat you as let you eat from it.”
I looked up and behold, there were the most beautiful golden orbs hanging on it, dripping with dew. They looked like a cross between an apple and a peach, although they were a bit greater in scale than, say, a large watermelon.
I wandered to one which had hit the ground. It was a bronze colour, wrinkled and not as attractive as the plump shiny things in the blood red branches. Inside there were many seeds that were the size of my fist, large sparkling rubies and emeralds.
“These look pretty valuable.” I said.
“They probably are, if you had a place to sell them,” replied the young Swedish voice of a nearby knob, “The nearest city is fifty leagues.”
“Consequently, if you touch one, this tree will take your soul,” whispered a sly voice,.Out of a deep, dark knob slithered a bright, salmon-coloured snake with golden eyes and a bright blue tongue that flicked at me with an ere of supreme intelligence, “How do you think this tree became so massive?” Its laugh was a low hiss, not entirely unpleasant, but still somehow malevolent.
“Snakes can’t talk.” I said.
The snake simply shrugged (if that’s possible), and slithered away, “I just thought I’d warn you.”
“I thought snakes were supposed to be rather sinister.”
“Well, that shows what a silly child knows.” The snake suddenly began slithering through the air, gliding away into the sky in a huff, like a glittering pink Chinese dragon in the sun. I picked up my camera from my chest and a resounding click echoed through the glade as the snake glinted out of sight behind a gloomy gray cloud.

-Katie Bogdanowicz

i hope the Lord was pleased.

this is a drawing i made in the chapel service last night infront of the congregation. when you turn it upside down, it seems to have a different meaning altogether.
after the service, several people came up to me and asked me what it was.
?



worship.
and also some prayer.

and the feeling i get about God.

second Papyrus submission - another Emily Dickinson

To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.

-Emily Dickinson

ajar ajar ajar

tire swing

Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the wind longs to play with your hair.
-Kahlil Gibran

watercolor.whistler.recliner

this person reminds me of a lot of people i love.

self portrait shotgun (the early august horizon which is almost passed out of view, goodbye day)

Little Wing & I Dwell in Possibility

some songs are pictures

I dwell in Possibility -

A fairer House than Prose-

More numerous of Windows-

Superior- for Doors-

Of Chambers as the Cedars-

Impregnable of Eye-

And for an Everlasting Roof-

The Gambrels of the Sky-

Of Visitors- the fairest-

For Occupation- This-

The spreading wide my narrow Hands-

To gather Paradise-

-Emily Dickinson

summer sketches

where are you going? where have you been?
what do you think about when you first wake up in the morning?
are you ready to go on a journey?


sometimes you can barely inch by.

shoebox

first of a series of drawings i am making for our school newspaper called The Papyrus.

just a simple doodle to submit for tonight.

i've been thinking about containers a lot.

containers in general.

jars

cups

vases

and also

bags

buckets

and boxes

what is it that i contain?

lyrics to 'The Ballad of the Unwanted Guests'

On a clear day on the shores of the Baltic
The immigrants gathered to start a new life.
Anticipation was fizzling the air and
They packed crates and boxes and sealed them up tight.

The crew bellowed shanties, taught kids dirty jokes,
And the women reheated the soup every night.
They all compared their big dreams and bright futures
And on every star they would wish that they might.

Their ship was suddenly tossed in the darkness!
Mothers were crying, the children held close.
Men fought each other and hoarded life jackets,
The captain spat orders and buttoned his coat.

They were waves caused by whales
Who were recklessly waltzing below-
With the swish and sway of their tails
They put on quite an excellent show-
as they sang:

"Come join our dance,
Come and join in our splashing!
We shall sings songs and dance under the stars.
Take off your shoes and your long heavy petticoats,
The water is great and the dance is not hard!"
Lalalalalala

Next thing they knew they were washed up on shore,
They were tattered and hungry and soggy and cold.
They were alone on a small desert island
With dark creepy jungles and horrors untold.

The women made shelters from grounded banana leaves,
Somewhat disheartened, they tried to make due.
The men gathered mangos, plantains, and papayas
to feed hungry families for a day or two.

to their shock, that same day
many monkeys appeared from the trees!
if you’d been there then you might say
“never has there been such thievery!”
What a shame.

“Come join our feast!” called the pilfering monkeys.
“follow us to our grand celebration,
“There at our table we’ll add this small portion
“you’re very welcome to join in the fun!”
Lalalala

Bothered and famished
They crawled to their shelters,
The women sang lullabies
The children dozed off.
The fathers extinguished small fires in the shadows,
Not quite content with thier saltwater broth.

They tossed and they turned
but the whispers around them
Made hair on their necks stand straight up nonetheless-
An uneasy feeling awakened the captain,
Feeling the presence of unwelcome guests...

They were grand pelicans
Swooping down from the ominous skies!
They grabbed men, women and children
Scooping them up to their great surprise!
And they sang:

“We’re off to the sky parade, the king has arrived!
You may ride in our beaks, we will try not to bite.
Our kingdom welcomes you, we will provide for you,
There on that island you’d not have survived.”
Lalalalalalala


(written communally by Steph Plant, Thomas Johnson, Katie Bogdanowicz, and Rachel Brown)