There are mild descriptions of animal death and grief below; skip this section if you’d like to avoid that.
A friend tells me they think death will be like Spring; I look at the cold lamb at my feet and I hope they’re right.
Sometimes when a lamb dies, the ewe will call for it for days, especially if she never sees the body. Other times, the ewe will reject the lamb in the hours before it’s actually gone; I’ve even seen ewes lay on her child, smothering it. I am angry at the mom who kills her baby, and I am gutted at the good mom whose lamb is now gone.
I learn that dogs will eat their owners as soon as a half hour after they die, always starting with the face. I learn that dogs look to a human’s face for emotion and response. I learn that dogs learn with their mouth.
I no longer think the sheep killing her lamb tells me anything about her grief.
Hello everyone -
I started using this mailing list in a more casual way a little over a year ago, after I left tattooing full time to work outside, and eventually, with sheep. I feel really good about that decision now that it's played out. But a little over a year ago, I was pretty unmoored; I was doing a lambing internship at a farm that was pretty awful, weathering the winter with no cell service, spotty wifi, and spottier heat. I was needing changes and overcorrecting, following a monastic impulse in completely misguided ways. But if you read this mailing list you know that already, and you also know that I love my work now, and that I tattoo sometimes still, and am finding a happy middle on the other side. So why am I in your email talking about this again?
I’ve been writing a lot more the last few years, with some lofty plans for The Book That I Will Write That Will Say Everything I Want To Say- which is an awful way to make anything and finish it. Thankfully I was given a handmade book by a friend this year, and something about holding that beautiful thing just made me feel like I had to make something immediately. So, I unearthed this piece of writing I made last spring while I was lambing and having an awful time, sat down with it again, and in the span of a week I’d hand drawn every page. I never finish anything that fast. I realized while working on it that I was doing all this the exact same week I’d written it a year ago, everything a circle.
It’s short and simple; it doesn’t say everything. It’s a grief book, working through a very specific time when I was putting my hands on a lot of life and death. It feels put to bed now.
I’d like to make many more books, that say many more things, until maybe together they all say almost everything. But for now I have this one for you: Shepherd of the Dust Bowl. Thirty-two pages, full color printed (I promise it’s not colorful), sewn binding, hand-drawn full page spreads, and nice paper that I picked from a big book of all the nice papers. It’s like a dressed up zine.
I’m doing preorders until May 17th, which you can find here. It’s possible I’ll have some for sale after, but I can’t guarantee it, so this is the way if you want one. I’ll start shipping them in June, once they’re printed and bound.
The excerpt below gives you an idea of what’s in it, but just a slice.
In the meantime, I’m working outside again, in a much better place, still with sheep who I love very much. I’ll update this again by the fall, when I start announcing tattooing guest spots again for the winter, and maybe sooner if I finally finish the music I’ve been working on, or maybe I’ll just have something to say. Thanks for being here.
Wishing you all an easy end of spring,
Jude