The Rabbit Room T-Shirt Contest
Dear Reader,
I know you have it in you. I’ve seen the way you stare out the window at the steaming roof of the industrial complex across the interstate, full of longing. I’ve seen the doodles in the margins of your songwriting notebook, on the crumpled paper you tore out of the fifth draft of your manuscript. I’ve also seen the disdain with which you finger through the shirts in your closet, wondering what possessed you to buy the SPAM shirt at Goodwill, or the Neil Diamond shirt in Vegas, or why you bother to keep the FREE THE FIRE shirt you got at that youth convention all those years ago.
We both know the world would be a better place with a t-shirt bearing a well-designed, simple statement of Rabbit Room strangeness, or beauty, or awesomeness. So let the designs and ideas flow. The most creative, pleasing to the eye, and/or curious design (think shirt.woot.com) will become our first t-shirt designer and will receive a free shirt plus a book or CD of their choosing (from the Rabbit Room Store, of course), along with the satisfaction of knowing that they have thus stricken a blow against the forces of evil.
Email submissions to andrew@rabbitroom.com, and please spread the word to any artful friends of this esteemed competition.
Sincerely,
The Proprietor
A.S. Peterson has crafted a work of compelling historical fiction which begs the question, “Can this really be a debut novel?” With dogged fidelity, Peterson captures the spirit, manners, and social conditions present during the American Revolutionary War. We meet colorful, credible characters who navigate the high seas of life and love, dependence and independence, war and peace, truth and consequence, and despite forays into dark places, The Fiddler’s Gun is beautiful, lyrical, and redemptive.
Walt Wangerin, Jr. strikes again.
Janner Igiby lives in Glipwood, a nothing little village in the land of Skree, on the edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. Manhood is on the horizon, but Janner finds it hard to feel much hope for the future. Skree is ruled by foreign oppressors, snake men called the Fangs of Dang, servants of a shadowy emperor named Gnag the Nameless. The Skreeans are weak and weaponless. They’re even tool-less. Any Skreean who needs to use a hoe has to borrow one from the Fangs (and fill out the requisite paperwork). And from time to time, the Black Carriage arrives in Glipwood to carry young Skreeans toward an unknown fate across the Dark Sea.
I am not a fan of Civil War literature; in fact, I have always thought of it as one of those weird sub-genres for obsessive types. They’re almost like Trekkies with their re-enactments and maniacal devotion to detail. It’s just not my thing (although I’m secretly jealous that they get to dress up and shoot cannons).
A Randall Goodgame song is like a great independent movie. Characters deliver lines like they were lifted from a break room, a truck stop, or a downtown diner. Seemingly incongruent scenes are juxtaposed and plot isn’t obvious; in fact, narrative–a good story–is often more evident than linear plot lines. An indie movie, like a Randall Goodgame song, seems to tell itself. Rather than being rudely yanked by a chain through a sequence of contrived events, with a Randall Goodgame song, I have the sense that I’m being allowed a willing, but vicarious sneak peak into the real lives of his real characters.
Sara Groves irritates me just a little bit. With each album she makes, she moves from strength to strength and is always raising the bar with the quality, depth, and lyrical ambition of her work. And as a fellow artist, that’s just a little irritating since it means the rest of us are going to have to work harder if we hope to keep up.
I am outside on my front porch. The yellowed leaves are methodically falling from the black walnut in the yard, my breath is chalky visible in the recent cold snap, and lately I have been exploring the unpleasant nuances of the dark night of a soul - my own, to be exact. It is a strange passion we live out on this over-glorified orb of rock hurtling through space at some rate that I’m sure would astound me were I to know what it was. It is an odd series of days, I am realizing, when you question your own faith more than you question your own doubt. And, indeed, it is these nagging questions which have prompted me to share my thoughts on Andrew Peterson’s 2003 album, Love and Thunder.
11-year old Reuben Land, a character in the 2001 book Peace Like a River, provides narration that is clear-eyed and insightful, yet retains the magic, wonder, and innocence of youth. I found it easy to entrust my imagination to the author’s clever method of telling the story through the sensibilities of a pre-teen boy. An author with lesser skill would have either made the boy too smart-alecky for his own good or impossibly cute.
I just finished a book that upon closing it, I felt like it finished me in a sense. A quiet meditative book that reached down and stirred the deep waters in me. It’s Marilynne Robinson’s 2005 Pulitzer prize winner Gilead, given to me by my friend Andrew Peterson.
Eric Peters’s body of work addresses a diverse range of topics, but hope is a recurring theme that gently percolates in the midst of it all. And yet, somewhere between the 2001 masterpiece Land of the Living, and Scarce, the flavor of hope that Peters’s work emits has evolved closer to a tone that is more resolute than what came before. And though the complexion of hope has a broad range, the lyrics from Scarce–while intermittently contrite and timorous as in previous efforts, are now strengthened and bolstered by roots that have grown deeper, radiating an underlying grit and security.
Having read The Great Divorce many times over the years, I’ve found this classic from the great C.S. Lewis to be full of startling clarity and depth on the differences between Heaven and Hell. The only thing both have in common is that both begin in the human will; we can either let Heaven enter us and rule in us to blossom into love and goodness, or allow Hell to infect and reign in our hearts by the daily refusal to submit to Heaven.
Even if you haven’t heard Room to Breathe, its still likely you’ve heard Andy Gullahorn. He’s what I’d call a heavy lifter by trade. He writes lyrics, plays guitar, arranges vocals and adds production help to the work of artists like Jill Phillips and Andrew Peterson.
Allow me to preface this by telling you that I am a great despiser of gushing reviews. I’d much rather write (or read) a scathing dismemberment of the latest Brett Ratner film or Terry Goodkind book than suffer through four hundred words of overblown hyperbole about even the best of things. But when asked to write some thoughts on Frederick Buechner’s Godric, no amount of distaste for high praise was able to intervene. I hope you’ll take what I say with the understanding that I do not say it readily or lightly.
Looking foward to joy riding with Aaron in his rocket car as we sport our new shirts.
A clarification, please.
I’m a great idea and concept guy, but not so much graphic artist. A truly inspired t-shirt design is in my head, but needs another’s talents to bring it to graphically acceptable completion. Can the t-shirt entry be a collaborative effort?
Tony, you’ll be the first to try out the rocket side-car.
And all the while we’ll be saying “Living the dream!”
Is there a deadline for submissions?
A rabbit room t-shirt? Talk of a Rabbit Room gathering? Oh boy. All my hopes and dreams are coming true.
Let the forces of evil quake in fear.
Would love to enter - what digital format would be accepted?
Hey Rabbitteers, or is that Rabbit Ears, what is the cut of date for submissions?
Hey, folks.
I’ve been in songwriting world for the last 48 hours or so and am just now emerging (having bagged a few songs, I’m happy to say). There’s no deadline for entries. I’m just waiting for the perfect design to show up. I’ve had several submissions so far but none have quite been the right design. A few people have asked about format, and the answer is it doesn’t matter. Just send a .pdf or .jpg in an email to andrew@rabbitroom.com. It doesn’t have to be on a t-shirt. It can be, like Aaron Roughton’s submission, just an idea (”Read Amok”, as in “Run Amok”, which was pretty funny).
Keep ‘em coming. The world thanks you for your commitment to excellent t-shirt design of a rabbity persuasion.
AP
I’m hoping somebody will submit a design based on the old rabbit/duck optical illusion.
I wonder if you could make an optical illusion out of Russ’s senior picture? His flowing hair has a lot of layers that could morph into something else.
Morph into awesomeness.
I think we have a winner.
Their here all week folks! Two shows on Saturday!
Coming up with an idea was fun. Thanks for letting all of us participate.
You should post all the ideas you received. Seeing everyone else’s design might get people thinking in different directions.