a b o u t

gimble&gyre’s name is inspired by lewis carroll’s “jabberwocky,” a poem of seemingly nonsensical words that, when put together in a particular way, create unexpected beauty. much like its namesake, gimble&gyre presents unexpected juxtapositions that inspire.

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currently featured:

an ongoing series of illustrations by joyce chan pairing extraordinary vegetables with fashion, accompanied by recipes from guest contributors.¬†to view joyce’s other work, including studio work and bespoke print design, please visit her website at joycechan.net.
archival prints, letterpress, and hand-printed goods, including cards, calendars, and other delights featuring this series will be available for sale soon.

upcoming:

something lovely featuring beautiful photographs from the global wanderings of caitlin hartigan. caitlin is a medieval art historian and illustrator specializing in illuminations and woodcut engravings. to peruse her publications, see the bodleian library record.

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keep stopping in for new work and other exciting collaborations!

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all work is copyright of gimble & gyre and the individual artists. please contact gimble&gyre directly if you are interested in featuring our work. thank you!

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“jabberwocky” by lewis carroll

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought —
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two!
And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’
He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

 

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