Kate Schaefer

I see your art every day. Three of your proof posters are on the wall of our bedroom, with another one on the wall of my office, and yet another in the hallway between the bedroom and the office. Glenn wears your shirts nearly every day; I wear them less often, because most of my shirts are a tad bit small for me right now. Your work is here, all the time, shaping our moods, making us happy and/or thoughtful.

I think my favorite of your work is the sixth Tiptree shirt, with that astonishing mosaic of images adding up to a woman’s face. I wore that shirt to tatters years ago, so I’m grateful to have the proof poster on the wall. A close second is the Potlatch 23 shirt, with the two people made of fragments of buildings facing each other, perhaps even holding hands, but not perceiving each other. I imagine them able to walk through each other without noticing. Your art made me see the book differently; it gave me an avenue into Mieville’s writing style which I had found offputting before. I like it when one piece of art is in dialogue with another; I like it when art challenges me and changes my perspective. We don’t have that proof poster, but Glenn wears the shirt frequently.

One of the other proof posters on our wall is from (I think) the t-shirt of the month series. It shows a woman in traditional middle-eastern clothing of some sort in front of a row of columns, holding one hand out to a goat behind a table covered in tea sets and the other hand out of the picture’s internal frame, so that it’s as if the woman is about to step out of the picture and into the world of the viewer. I had not noticed until now that the goat has one foot out over the internal frame as well! Now I have to regard the goat differently! It was one of Anita Rowland’s favorite shirts, so when I look at it, I remember Anita as well as thinking of you.

Susan Harris

Freddie occasionally came through Chicago to visit her dad, and we would get together then. After her father passed away, she invited us to his funeral. My child was a young infant at the time, and this was the first funeral for young Jinx. Jinx was very well behaved, right up until it came time for the folding of the colors, during which Jinx let out a very audible infant fart. I was mortified. Freddie told me afterward that her father would have loved this and it was exactly the kind of thing that appealed to his sense of humor.