Karen Lybrand | Studio Arts

Karen Lybrand lived in Ketchikan, Alaska for 22 years before returning to her roots in Maine. It was during her time in Ketchikan that she began doing work as a graphic designer and illustrator for Raven's Brew Coffee.

As a commercial designer, she has left her mark on all of the Raven's Brew... Continue»

The Boundaries of Life and Death

by Saskia Kretzschmann

This short animated film is based on Edgar Allan Poes quotation: “The Boundaries which divide life from death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?”

A student solo project, the creation and the implementation of the animation took about three months to complete.
(Via Brainpickings)

Mourir Auprès de Toi (To Die by Your Side)

by Spike Jonze

This stop motion animated film was in the making for about a year and a half
and used over 3000 felt pieces to animate the characters.

Directed by Spike Jonze and Simon Cahn
Animated By Sylvain Derosne and Léonard Cohen
Created by Olympia le Tan

The Naming of Ketchikan, Alaska

History & Art by Mary Henrikson

When I was young and asked, “What does Ketchikan mean?” I was told Stinky Fish Creek.  I was disappointed my hometown had such a pungent name.

When Ketchikan lost its natural resource industry and began to rely on tourism for economic viability, those in marketing circles knew “Stinky Fish Creek” just wasn’t going to make it.  So it was redefined approximately as “Sound of Thunder on the Wings of an Eagle”... Continue»

Hall Anderson, Photographer

Photography & Art

For nearly 50 years, Hall Anderson has been intrigued by the inherent drama in natural and urban landscapes and in ways ordinary people interact with their surroundings.

He loves the discovery of the moment – the excitement of the unscripted drama of the street. He often shoots from the hip with little forethought, with only the inner sense that he's on to something. To watch Hall in action is to watch a master; he makes it look effortless.
Continue»

Of Coffee and Borgs

Fiction by Larry Lawson

While visiting another city about 40 miles up the road from where I live, I had to wait for an hour to see a man I wanted to talk to about business.

I went next door to one of those hoity-toity coffee shops. I'd never been in one before. They were apparently upset that I just wanted a simple, good, cup of coffee; not one that was a work of art, or made from beans imported from the red sands of Mars or some-such, just a good cuppa joe. Eventually... Continue»

The Wicked Art of Abigail Larson

Art & Interview

It all began in the dark withered forests of Virginia. The birth was marked by howling winds, volcanic eruptions and a procession from the other worldly realms to honor the child that would give their ranks visibility in the coming years.

Abigail Larson was inspired to create from the time she could first hold a pen. In spite of her parents wishes to the contrary, she grew to love things of a bizarre frightening sort, including the works of Mary Shelley, Bram Stoker, H. P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Edward Gorey and classic horror movies. Continue»

Betsy

Fiction by Kenneth Sibbett

Lester sauntered through the Flea Market. He had nowhere to go and was in no hurry to get there. Since he retired and his wife, Ellen, had died, he mostly worked around his house or in his workshop. When he was a young buck he always had somewhere to go. He remembered getting his first driver's license. He bought an old clunker of a car and put some used Mag rims on the tires. After shining up the tires and dash and putting on a good wax job, it didn't look half-bad. It wasn't new like the rich kids had, but it ran great. Back then he always had places to go and people to see. Not like now. No, not like now. Continue»

Amazing Rush

Poem by Travis Laurence Naught

Take it!
Take every fucking coffee bean I have ...
Take it all!

But you will never have all of my caffeine

Because I will sniff the dried tea leaves
From bags I steeped ages ago
To get the fucking rush that I love

I will grind every chocolate bar in the house
Down to molecular dust
And separate the sweet sugar nonsense...
Continue»

Years of Deep Curiosity, The Art of Ray Troll

Art

What’s in a name?
If your name is Ray Troll, it could be that living with the name Troll for years would begin to exert an influence in some way – as in trolling for fish. But not literally.  When Ray’s art career began to take off it was fueled by a love of fish: painting fish, drawing fish, catching fish, eating fish. With an insanely popular hand silkscreened t-shirt ... Continue»

FUBAR

Fiction by Kenneth Sibbett

The young soldier, wearing military camouflage and carrying a duffel bag, was standing on an off-ramp leaving a truck stop and heading east with his thumb-out. Southeast really, but that's as the crows fly and the interstate has a mind of its own. He was wearing his camouflage because people will pick-up a soldier a lot faster than they will anyone else. He knew it was illegal for him to wear an army uniform and he would probably go to jail if a cop stopped him, but, fuck it. The court-martial was over. He was given a dishonorable discharge, fined all of his back pay and taken off base by the MP's and told to leave town. That simple. At least the bastards couldn't eat him. Continue»

Our Time to Go

Fiction by Larry Lawson

I cannot tell you what woke me that night. I know that it was not a loud noise. One wakes up differently to a loud noise. Perhaps it was just the soft sssh of an elderly slippered foot on soft stair carpet. Or perhaps a soft groan had escaped the old woman’s tightly pressed lips as she mounted to the landing where I huddled in an overstuffed chair under the glow of the only light that was ever left on after 10:00pm. Continue»

The Sketchbook of Quentin Vien

Art & Interview

Quentin Vien currently lives in London, England and works in the animation industry. He has been filling a blank book with sketches for a couple of years now and is in the early stages of transforming the sketches into an animated short.

How did you acquire the blank book with a Deadman's Reach bag cover?
My mum was in Sienna, Tuscany, a few years ago (probably around 2006) and discovered a workshop where a guy would sell handmade books. She can't remember the name but it was close to the Piazza Del Campo. (If any one knows the shop, I'll be interested to know.) The only hint I got regarding the book shop is a stamp on the first page... Continue»

Separating Sara

Fiction by Kenneth Sibbett

Marty sat at his desk at home, watching the kids across the street playing a game. It looked like “You’re It,” a game he had played as a child. He smiled remembering how terrible he was at it.

It’s funny what you remember on your birthday. Yeah, he was 50-years-old today and going through a mid-life crisis. Everyone reads about them, but until you get there, you just don’t know. He had worked hard as an insurance salesman years before opening his own company, which had been very successful. He knew everyone wanted insurance, whether or not they could afford it. Continue»

The Shaman’s Grave

Alaskan Adventure & Art by Terry Pyles

In southern southeast Alaska, several years ago, I provided local knowledge for Bill, a photographer on assignment with National Geographic Magazine. He had rented a 32’ yacht, the M.V. Shaman, for the summer and I accompanied him every other week for about a week at a time, while he worked with his assistant.  My job was to watch their backs, keep them safe from bears and local hazards, and to find locations for taking photographs of salmon underwater.

A friend of mine, Bob, a veteran sailor, joined us on one of the trips.  We were nearing a well-known abandoned Tlingit village that we decided would be worth exploring. We launched the inflatable and went ashore. Continue»

Just a ‘Swingin’

Fiction by Kenneth Sibbett

Ron sat down and stared at his little brother, swinging in the strong breeze – the aftermath of Irene. A large swirl was making the wooden brace that held the rope make a creeping noise every few seconds. Ron drank out of his pint of Popov vodka (probably the reason Eric was dead anyway) and looked at Eric, slowly swinging from the oil-smeared junkyard rope that had been on that wooden brace for years and had taken out so many motors that he couldn’t really remember them all.

That it was one hell of a piece rope went through his mind, even though he didn't want it to. He remembered when his dad bought that big piece of rope, brand new from... Continue»

Phoebe Blume

Music Interview

Singer/songwriter Phoebe Blume released her second album titled Into Your Fold in September of this year – a delicious selection of lush, haunting songs that span many genres. Listeners are cradled through intimate journeys. The rich, deep musical delivery of her songs are crafted and arranged with the utmost care, designed to carry off the listener. Honest and cutting, but sometimes tender and romantic, Blume’s lyrics peppered with irony tell timeless, emotional stories through sophisticated means. Phoebe’s time spent in the deep south shows through in blues-flavored melodies, while her years of classical training are encapsulated in rich, string-enhanced music-beds and melodies. Continue»

Luna

Fiction by LC Neal

There were four brothers, and five more men who may as well have been. They had all grown up, she was told, in the wild center of Florida; west of Withlacoochee State Forest, on Bradley Lake.

The brothers were all six feet, wiry and toasted pecan, with sun-streaked brown hair falling to just above their tool belts in ponytails made of intricate braids. She found out later that they wore their hair that way only on a job; the braids came out when the job was finished. Continue»

A Ghost Near the Lighthouse

An autobiographical ghost story by Maureen J Andrade

Photo © Maureen J Andrade

When I was twelve years old, my mom, my twin sister Patty, and I drove from the Portland area to Mendocino, CA to visit my Aunt Katie and her family. It was a long drive, but Mom expected we could make it in a day. Save for one major detour, when she drove to Yreka instead of Eureka, we made good time. After twelve hours, we were exhausted, but the end was in sight. Winding down a country road to the starlit bluff of Pt. Castillo, we saw a row of nineteenth century Victorian houses and a lighthouse transposed against the Pacific Ocean. Continue»

Philosopher’s Fuel

Recipe

Ahhhhhh, Synaptic sparkle with subtle vapors of perversion… an esoteric ink of uncoiling, if you will. High-octane, too. The first ingredient in this Rustic Kahlua recipe is the ever-so-difficult-to-acquire Patience. Consider yourself warned, this is the stuff of Gourmands and crazy, three-eyed Philosopher-Alchemists. To quote M. Maier from his Atalanta fugiens, Oppenheim (1618): “If one fetches the king from the Mercurial water, one should be careful that he should not lose his crown... Afterwards one should place him in a steam-bath, so that he loses the water that he has swallowed, and then marry him, so that he produces a royal son.” Continue»

Deadman on Ice

Recipe

A couple of years ago we tested all of the primary Raven's Brew Coffee blends in search for the ultimate iced coffee and Deadman's Reach was the clear winner for iced applications.

For a single serving we used about 1 Tbs of sweetened condensed milk and added it to about 6 oz of strong coffee (we used 1 overflowing Tbs of whole bean coffee freshly ground and prepared with a Hario filter cone) – you may wish to adjust this ratio and brewing methods to your own buds. Cool and add ice.

This is so simple and so yummy you may find yourself keeping a gallon or so in the fridge to cool your afternoons.