From 2009 to 2011, Matt Kish of central Ohio, drew a picture for every page of Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. His blog, One Drawing for Every Page of Moby Dick (titled appropriately) takes us through his process and up to today, where his drawings are published as an illustrated book! It’s poetry really- what started as a blog, later became a book. Three cheers! In Matt’s biography, he says “I didn’t go to art school. I work very hard on each image and I do the best I can, but ultimately I do what I want to do with the art, and that’s that.” Maybe that’s why Matt is so gosh-darn lovable. It just comes naturally to him! He’s just doing what he loves and he was able to share the experiences with the world. So we’re here to cheer him on! But let’s make a couple things clear- Matt is no knuckle head with a pen and paper. His series is beautiful!! He manages to bring out emotions with a variety of styles and techniques; he doesn’t seem to be married to one. Matt is an exciting artist because you never know what you’re going to see!! I highly recommend checking out his beautiful book and website, right here. The book is available, here. And you can find his Etsy shop, here.
page 220 : “Mr. Stubb,” said I, turning to that worthy, who, buttoned up in his oil-jacket, was now calmly smoking his pipe in the rain…
page 246 : “…it was then that Steelkilt proposed to the two Canallers, thus far apparently of one mind with him, to burst out of their hole at the next summoning of the garrison; and armed with their keen mincing knives (long, crescentic, heavy implements with a handle at each end) run amuck from the bowsprit to the taffrail…”
page 472 : At such times, under an abated sun; afloat all day upon smooth, slow heaving swells; seated in his boat, light as a birch canoe; and so sociably mixing with the soft waves themselves, that like hearth-stone cats they purr against the gunwale; these are the times of dreamy quietude, when beholding the tranquil beauty and brilliancy of the ocean’s skin, one forgets the tiger heart that pants beneath it; and would not willingly remember, that this velvet paw but conceals a remorseless fang.
page 477 : For that strange spectacle observable in all Sperm Whales dying – the turning sunwards of the head, and so expiring – that strange spectacle, beheld of such a placid evening, somehow to Ahab conveyed a wondrousness unknown before.
page 522 : “Aye, toil we how we may, we all sleep at last on the field.”
page 534 : …Moby Dick bodily burst into view! For not by any calm and indolent spoutings; not by the peaceable gush of that mystic fountain in his head, did the White Whale now reveal his vicinity; but by the far more wondrous phenomenon of breaching. Rising with his utmost velocity from the furthest depths, the Sperm Whale thus booms his entire bulk into the pure element of air, and piling up a mountain of dazzling foam, shows his place to the distance of seven miles and more. In those moments, the torn, enraged waves he shakes off, seem his mane; in some cases, this breaching is his act of defiance.
page 538 : “Great God! but for one single instant show thyself,” cried Starbuck; “never, never wilt thou capture him, old man – In Jesus’ name no more of this, that’s worse than devil’s madness. Two days chased; twice stove to splinters; thy very leg once more snatched from under thee; thy evil shadow gone – all good angels mobbing thee with warnings; – what more wouldst thou have? – Shall we keep chasing this murderous fish till he swamps the last man? Shall we be dragged by him to the bottom of the sea? Shall we be towed by him to the infernal world? Oh, oh, – Impiety and blasphemy to hunt him more!”
page 547 : At length as the craft was cast to one side, and ran ranging along with the White Whale’s flank, he seemed strangely oblivious of its advance…
Nicole Belopotosky 
