Illustration by Troy DeShano

It’s Collab Friday!!

This week’s illustration is a reader suggestion… and for some reason this week everyone was suggesting super-weird and specific things (like I’m that weird??)

Everything from three-headed-kitten-mermaids to stilted tortoises…

When two different people happened to mention pie I knew we were on to something though…

@sacredlotus suggested bunnies eating pie and Matt suggested Cake vs. Pie…

So I decided to draw Cake vs. Pie in a bunny-eating contest.

Still kind of weird for me, but that’s the fun of collaborating, right?

What should I draw next time?

Bunny Eating Contest Wallpaper

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illustration by Troy DeShano

Sometimes people ask me to explain where I came up with the idea for Strong Odors or why the name or what the site is exactly.

Gasoline is one of my go-to explanations.

Because gasoline is one of those odors that most of us probably wouldn’t describe as “good.” We might not call it “bad” either… it doesn’t really fit into those black and white categories, you know?

But—good or bad— it is one of those odors that we can all relate to (and most of us actually like for some weird reason).

And that’s kind of what Strong Odors is.

Sometimes I experience certain moments in life that might seem good or bad at the time… or might seem good or bad on some level later on… or might not seem like anything… but however sweet or delicate or pungent or putrid… they are the experiences that shape me and affect the course of my life.

Sometimes it is even the smallest of things (like the color of my high school locker) while other times the experience buckles my knees (like discovering my son has Autism).

I’d have to say that up until now gasoline would probably have fallen into the prior category—unmistakable, delightful, sensory—but not really life-changing.

But last month when I stepped off the plane onto African soil for the first time, the distinct combination of diesel fuel and dust forever seared that moment into my olfactory subconscious as an irrepressible reminder of one of the most important experiences I’ve ever had.

So as much as something so simple as diesel fuel can invoke an emotion that powerful, how much more do the heavy-handed experiences offer me for my future? The problem is that so often we allow the strongest odors to own us. They smell so bad that we are afraid to look back and even entertain the thought that there may be some part of that, even if it is difficult that has reminded me in some way that I’m alive.

But I can’t be afraid—because whenever I’m reminded that I exist it makes me appreciate the diesel fuel and the new baby smell and the  PB & J and the sunshine and bare feet and paperbacks and saltwater and power chords and hot tea and cold beer and high fives and wipe-outs and wrong turns and cardigans and sour patch kids and polaroids and poetry and bad movies and lighting bugs and skinned knees and laughing out loud and hook shots and Saturday mornings and chlorine and ringing ears and corner stores and reruns and pockets and graffiti and loose teeth and magic wands and harmony and black eyes and dead skin and dill and spitting and slide-tackles and nachos and dust.

For some reason I feel like there should be a “gasoline” verse to that classic Flaming Lips song. There isn’t, but I put it in my playlist anyway.

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Here are a few classic odors that you may have missed:

• My First Post is about Michael Jackson’s Socks?

  

• Why Root for Don Draper?

  

• Why I Hate Weddings

  

• Biblical Theology from a Zen Master/Punk Musician

  

• ’79 Monte Carlo for the Lord

  

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I heard a funny story on NPR’s On the Media this week…

Apparently a guy named Robert Ekas is suing his local police department, claiming his multiple moving violations are bogus and only issued because he is (apparently) committed to giving the police the finger.

Brooke Gladstone’s conversation with Ira Robbins about free speech, public obscenities and flag burning was funny and interesting.

A case that seems kind of silly is actually kind of a big deal…

What do you think? do we have a right to “salute” the police in whichever way we feel appropriate? (whether they deserve it or not?)

If so, do you believe it an important way to excercise your first amendment rights?

Listen for yourself, or read the transcript here.

Disclaimer: I’m thankful for Traverse City police and I’d never call them pigs… it just makes the illustration funnier.

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I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again.

Five times I was flogged with the Jews’ 39 lashes.

Three times I was beaten with Roman rods

Once I was stoned,

Three times I was shipwrecked (I spent a night and a day in the open sea!)

I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false brothers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked. Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches. Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?

But God said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

For to be sure, Christ was crucified in weakness, yet he lives by God’s power. Likewise, we are weak in him, yet by God’s power we will live with him to serve you.

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