Mild Fall

We had one dusting of snow last week. It was enough to make me scramble to get the yard decorations into the storage shed and grab some salt to keep the porch clear. Since then it has been mild with midday temps reaching into the 60s. I am hoping that we have another Winter like 2000. No snow.

It is a faint hope. Yesterday I saw Dorian (the grey squirrel) on the porch. He is FAT and his coat is thick. It will be a raging Winter once it gets here. Not sure how I feel about that. As I age the seasons full of holiday bustle mean less and less. In part, this is due to the inability to really enjoy it as a participant with the work load and the retail atmosphere beginning so early. But also I think it has a lot to do with everything still being in storage. I am afraid to look and see how my things have fared with the horrible way that everything was stacked.

My antiques dealer is up and running again so he will be able to help me thin out my possessions. Have no idea how much money I will get for it all. But will have to take it slow and do this piece meal. The hardest part will be sorting art supplies and dealing with that damage as well as the holiday supplies.

In other news, Sting's new album drops next Friday. And my book project is getting a lot bigger than I was planning. But thankfully, I see a light at the end of the tunnel and it is not a speeding train. I guess I have to have a train on every track and just let them run at their own speed. I knew I wasn't going to be publishing by this time this year. But I am anxious to get to the presses soon. Fortunately this is not a project whose success is determined by seasonal readiness! I can actually take time to enjoy the season the way that I can... in quiet reflection.

Font Porn?

all fonts depicted here were found at dafont.com

I guess there is such a thing as font porn. And a font addiction. I woke up this morning groggy, bleary eyed and disoriented as if I'd been drinking all night at the club. My memories were vague about what exactly I was doing. There were a ton of songs in my head all jumbled around like 40 people at karake all singing a different song at the same time. Chaos. Then I opened my computer to install a "few" fonts and found that I downloaded an astonishing 30 fonts in one sitting.

Normally I just add fonts as the project dictates. But something about yesterday....

Oh I know. I started out sorting them and making exemplar pages for the categories. PicMonkey has a  new Hub feature where I can store information and have it at a glance. If I know the style I want I can just look at that page instead of scrolling, scrolling, scrolling...   At some point I realized one collection of styles was bit thin. Since my exemplars were supposed to be pretty as well I decided to beef up the selection. And then it was midnight. This morning I saw what I had done.

Thirty fonts. Thirty. I only installed a few today. The rest are sorted into a folder "to be installed" later. I'd like to blame Ed Benguiat. I sorted a page called "@the Movies". It will be later in this post. Remembered that Stranger Things bothered me because I knew the font but the name slipped my mind. So I looked it up. And then realized to my horror that it was one of the fonts that went missing with my latest Windows. I LOVE BENGUIAT! Loved it since design school. And I had to have it back. THAT! That is what started the whole thing.

And then I remembered Fritz. Absolutely love Fritz Quadrata. It is seldom used now, assuming it found stagnation a decade ago and just fell out of favor. But I still love it. So I started a collection of Quadratas in its honor. Little did I suspect all of the interesting places that a Quadrata would show up. Note the very "pirate-y" looking 1492 Quadrata.

And that beautiful Benguiat. You can't beat it for readability. Like most of the Old Masters of Type, the reading is the key. If I can't tell what a word is at a glance I won't like that font. And there are a lot of fonts to dislike out there. Be grungy but do not obfuscate. Thus I love the Angelica War at the top. Grungy and Readable!!! Best of all... you can make any letter at the start or finish with a swirly flourish! Genius.  Ginga is readably grungy too. I love that about these two fonts. And I wish there was more of it around. But you have to buy a commercial license for those and apparently businesses are too cheap to pay. I get hobby bloggers like me not paying for commercial licenses but businesses can write those off. Oh well. I'll have to popularize them myself.

I'm also low on brush scripts. I've been getting the free ones at Creative Market but I couldn't pass up Bakery when I saw it. With a solid selection of brush script there should be enough for me to work with for a while. But I'm not holding my breath on that one either. I'm sure I will find more to love.

Northumbrian, which for whatever reason I hear in Richard Armitage's voice, is one of those crisp, legible uncial letter forms that crosses cultures, Celtic, Viking, German, Roman, or Dwarven. At once Ancient and modern, there is a good deal that can be done with this one. I think that is what I like best about this particular uncial. When I look at it standing firm like so many soldiers upon a hill I see scenes from movies and books that I have read. It is a font full of memories.

Speaking of memories, Pilot and Strong Glasgow remind me of old favorites. Pilot looks very Calvin and Hobbes. And Strong Glasgow, which is undoubtedly based on Rennie MacIntosh's gorgeous craftsman style font Willow, reminds me of my friend Michelle. She developed a series of stamps around the Craftsman movement theme with Willow as the main typeface as well as the inspiration. Of course it also conjures American Horror Story. Yikes.

Jefferson adds to my handwriting collection. I missed out on Monet when it came out but PicMonkey had Santos Durant to sort of make up for it in their collection. Jane Austen will come next to round out the quill pen fonts without famous attribution that I have.

Which brings us to the funny little display font called SCIRCLES. It is very steampunk. It is also a bit Art Nouveau leading into the Art Deco thing. And that is where I am art artistically again. I am loving the late Nouveau and the Art Deco stuff. You can attribute this to all of the Mysteries I've been watching. Which were also the mysteries that I was reading as a kid. As a kid, the typesetting in those books made as much an impact as the stories. There wasn't an industry standard like there is today. Each publishing house had its own set of type styles. You knew by the look and the feel of the book as much as by the imprint logo in the face page.

Today Times Roman is the standard or some Arial nonesense. It is rare that I find a book with a unique print and I notice it. And invariably those are the books that I love best. This is one of the reasons that I am slow, nay, reluctant to hit the ebook trend. Never mind that I could save room with digital books. You don't get the whole body experience with digital books. Every sense is engaged when I read. I miss that.

I am hoping that this current obsession/love affair with typesetting leads my back to reading. I enjoyed the last book tremendously. It is such a sensory experience for me that I think the overload of the last two years just made it impossible for me to sit through whole books. Magazines have been easier. Still.... fonts. Typestyles. The printed word....

Looking for Living Quarters & Getting Stuck

I love having a geeky/nerdy boyfriend that is just as weird about things as I am. Did I mention that while we were apartment hunting he came over to look at all I had and help me sort in my head what kinds of things we did and did not need? Oh... I might have mentioned it on the art blog because that is what it was mostly about.

If I did mention it, I apologize for mentioning again. Since I can not stop thinking about what a gift the whole experience was for me I am talking about it again and not bothering to look through the posts to see if I already wrote about it. It's a big deal.

He told me that I would most definitely be setting up shop in the living room. All the art out in the open. The odds of us having company are slim. And any one who would come over already knows there is a huge art factor on both sides of the relationship so it will surprise no one. So it doesn't matter if the living room is the studio/library. How many people get to be that close to sustenance? And how many artists get to come out of the cramped back room or out of the basement? Any way...

All my life I've been told to hide my stuff. Hide who I am. He'd rather look at banks of white cubes than tons of pretty tchotchkes like other "normal" people would. He said that it inspires him to be creative when he sees others being creative. And then there would not be a huge disconnect, me in one room him in another. I don't know how that is going to go for me.

On the one hand... I don't like an audience because I don't want a record of the mistakes. And I don't like to be interrupted when I am in the swing of things. But... I also don't like to feel like the art makes me a freak that has to hide in another room while the normal people are eating dinner..... its so Harry Potter under the stairs. Or Jo in the garret. Except that Jo was accepted by her family for being a crazy writer. I am looking forward to it. He took one look at the basement without a source for natural light and the unfinished ceiling and the cobwebs and exclaimed

"You can't work down here! What are you thinking?"

He was right. I tried. Beyond the smell of unclumped cat pee I couldn't be down there. It was dismal. And thanks to the kidney I didn't have the money to do what I wanted to do with it. But..... times and locations are changing so we shall see what comes of this.

I am excited at least to think about a future where I am able to paint where I live instead of making a hole somewhere to hide. It can only bring out the better parts of my artistic drive right?

The hard part is that I am so excited to start painting in earnest again that I am having a hard time being focused on packing.

Keep Your Fingers Crossed

Well, we are looking at a place that has been in the paper for so long one has to wonder what is wrong with the place. It's above an art market. So keep your fingers crossed. Both for the living arrangements and for a potential place to sell. At the very least, a contact to sell somewhere.



And today, I got to spread some free art love around my Facebook friends. This got a few likes and a request for use as Facebook cover image.


And I'm gonna have to do something special for all the seasons. Maybe offer up some free art at my own page on facebook. Maybe... I don't know. But progress doesn't start without putting yourself out there.

So I guess it is time to play some more.

Byzantium: She'll be waiting in Istanbul

There are few things as iconic as the famed yellow border of a National Geographic magazine except, perhaps, the religious icons of a long forgotten era of World History originating on the peninsula between the Mediterranean & Black seas... in the city of Byzantium, the cultural center of the Byzantine Empire.

 Known by a variety of names by the early inhabitants; Romania, Empire of the Romans and among the cultural elite of the main body of the Roman Empire of the West, Empire of the Greeks. This term was used to define the eastern portion of the Roman Empire by its primarily Greek inhabitants and rulers as almost a class unto itself. At least this is how I interpret the wiki article I've been perusing. As part of the entire Roman world you would think that the traditional Roman remodel would have come to this far flung area as is usual. Somewhere in history that I have yet to unearth, someone decided to make peace with the Greek factions that were conquered and given this region between the Seas for their playground. And it is here that the Greek aesthetic won out over the more subdued Roman style. So I gather.

The first use of the term Byzantium came in 1557 from a German historian named Hieronymus Wolff. It was not popularized until the Victorian era but once the name took it spread like wildfire. Byzantium is the empire's capital city and has been more popularly known by its other names.... Istanbul. And Constantinople....





You're welcome.

The magazine above was published in 1983. I clearly recall this cover. And most of the pictures inside. But for whatever reason the information in the articles is a bit hard to recover from the depths of my memory banks. All I know is that I loved the colors and patterns, the architecture and the symbolism in the things that they were restoring. And I love the places that you can see its influence. And true to the 80s style, jewel tones, icons and bold brass, bold gold patterns came into vogue from this long dormant empire back into the sun of our collective artistic consciousness. Eventually this lead to a brief fling with heraldic symbols. But the jewel tones indicative of the Empire stayed through out the decade.

While looking over the internet for suitable art work to pilfer for this post, I came across a very interesting article on an amazing art site. It amazes me just how much of the things I used to absorb as a kid and drool over just a few years ago has left the building so to speak. Obviously, with my passion for rich colors, the influence is still there. And I do wonder again. About everything. But as I am looking over the art on google and I find so many mosaics, I do wonder that anyone had the patience to put these things together. I have a hard time with a 1000 piece puzzle. As I have done eggshell mosaics and found those tedious as well, I can not think on how to accomplish these wall murals and floor designs with these itty bitty pieces of stone.

Look at the detail. You can't plan-a-gram that. Or can you? I have a hard time with printed counted cross-stich and needle work. Obviously with religion as a theme, there is a component of meditation involved with the practice that I can not fathom. So I will have to focus on subject and colors and forget about the process which undoubtedly would drive me batty.

Perhaps I will have to build a board on Pintrest to remember all these things that are still tucked away in boxes somewhere.

Something David Said

My cousin David is an artist and he has had quite an amazing amount of life happen to him over the years which could get a fella down. Yet he is always positive and quite productive. He said something on Facebook in the context of life that really made a lot of sense to me and encouraged me as well.... I need to get out of the idea that selling art is only for a select few.

The Liar Depression is always trying to hold you back. Sometimes it wins. Sometimes you win. I don't win very often. And one of the reasons that I don't is that I keep believing that I don't have the credentials to sell my work. I have the skill. But not the cred.

For some reason I think that matters. Nevermind that we have all been taught that it matters. And that an artist is not really an artist until he or she is in a gallery and has tons of sales. It's like writing. If you aren't making money at it then that is not who you are. I don't make money doing this. But I am a writer. The only qualification is to actually write. I am an artist. I make art. That should be enough.

It should. It isn't. And so.....
I've put David's words into a banner. Whatever you are doing that Depression wants you to stop doing that would be good for you can be substituted for the word art. Substitute. Tell your self the truth. It isn't enough to call Depression a liar if you are going to go back to your safety zone and hide. Call it a liar. AND kick it in the teeth.

Do what you like. Do what you are called to do.
Steal this if you have to.

And yes.... I am letting this bleed over so that if you want to lift it you can have a descent size to do so. Normally I hate having anything run off the page. But for you I make an exception.

Dr. Who Makes Sculpture Parks Scary

It's a dreary day in Northern Michigan.. thus, we have the monochromatic art project for today. I've been meaning to do a collage since we got back from the art park in August. Today is the perfect day to play. I want to remember the sunny day.

Though what is actually happening is that I am remembering what it felt like to walk up on this girl. It is a sculpture titled "Sleepwalk". After so many episodes of Weeping Angels I felt like it was more "Sleep Stalk". I actually did jump out of my skin when I saw her because she was my height. And of course.... striking a classic weeping angel pose.

What is it about Doctor Who that makes the mundane, run about town, world so incredibly creepy? And why, oh why, do I not yet carry a sonic screwdriver?

Pondering

"Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one." -Albert Einstein

 

The voices inside our heads are merely echoes of something someone once said, to paraphrase Sting. They are illusory, most likely false and every bit as persistent as reality. If it is true that what you believe determines your life's path, then the illusions that we subscribe to are either the road MAP or the road BLOCK to our destinations. Perhaps success in life is really as simple as changing a subscription, viewpoints, ideas about what is and is not possible.

 

Whatever it is that makes us succeed in our given fields, excel in a chosen area or simply enjoy in the life that we each live must be in the illusions that we chose to accept as real versus imaginary. If the people who have brought us such fanciful and whimsical things to geek over believed the voices in my head, echoes of things that family and not so well meaning friends have said, then we would not have:
Star Trek

Doctor Who

Stargate

Star Wars

Avatar

Warehouse 13

Fringe

most of the animation that we enjoy

Hugo's world would not have given way to the vast cinematic heritage that we enjoy today. There would be no music. There would be nothing but work and sleep and what ever addiction gets a person from one day to the next. There would be nothing on the horizon but the looming Government Shut Down. Dystopia. Anarchy. Desolation.

 

There is a real crisis looming if the information circulating my Facebook feed is even one tenth accurate. And there is nothing more loathsome to contemplate than a future akin to Revolution or the Kurt Russell thriller Escape from L.A. There is hope in imagination. There is little hope in the reality that we are being shown from Congress, our President and most of the media. Who can live under the oppression of such a reality?

 

Today I went seeking imagination. If I need to develop better coping skills, expand my sphere of influence to survive the coming meltdown that our President seems determined to inflict on the rest of us then it is imagination that will see me through. Not chocolate. Not Dr. Pepper. Not the things that get the sheeple through the night. I was never one of them. And I have learned that I can not live like them. There is no reason to.

 

Imagination is everything according to Einstein. Imagination lets you chose your own illusion. It is the only freedom that is left to us. Imagination heals and feeds the soul. And that is the only thing that lives forever.

 

I have to believe it is also the thing that lets us truly withstand the trials and tribulations in the world. Faith and Imagination are close to the same thing. They both involve seeing what isn't smack in front of your face & making things happen when you can not see the outcome. Imagination made the world. Imagination made everything.

 

It all starts with God (however one defines him/her/it) asking "what if...."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Random!

I'm not sold on the background. I think it competes with the banner. But I am having a hard time with the template editor. They took away my ability to change the striping color on the basic edition of this layout and the other ones don't really suit me. It will have to be a work in progress I guess.

But I do love the banner. It seems a bit Halloweeny to me. But maybe that is just the fall colors and the glorious font. Honestly, and I hope I don't jinx this, I am amazed that such an awesome font is on the free menu. Picmonkey is a great site. I think I am in love. I am not ready to commit to an upgrade. Yet. I am still trying to find out how I upgraded Evernote without so much as a by your leave or a credit card. Perhaps a promotional thing after I linked to it from here? I don't know.

But seriously, Evernote and Picmonkey are two places that you have to check out to be able to do your writing and artsy stuff with as little clutter on your hard drive as possible. I would like to work on Evernote on the desktop without internet connection but they only have that option for the W8Touch. I have the basic W8 laptop. And the only thing that Picmonkey really has forgotten is a duplicating button so that when I add my own overlay and get it looking perfect I only have to edit my layer once and then can just essentially rubber stamp the hell out of my project. Seriously though... that is my only complaint. Which is actually more of a suggestion.

Now I just have to figure out how to load real player or media player with songs from the CDs I was given so that I can listen straight fro the computer without worrying about scratching the CDs. I thought I had done so. But yesterday I couldn't access any of the songs. And I might have accidentally removed one whole file of awesome from the disk. God I hope I didn't. That will be a horrible thing to have to confess if I did.

Font Geeks Be Aware

There's a handy dandy new tool/game/novelty card deck for graphic designers/font geeks/type junkies/frustrated students. Update: This set of flash cards is not available at the link that has been up. I don't know when it died but today (9/23/23) it links to an Asian gambling site so I've taken it down.

Made by graphic designers, for graphic designers and with the graphic designers budget in mind, the thing is a joy to behold. It's only drawback is the one thing that it does not have...  the cool box.

Oh designers of Fontspotting™ why not make it a full fledged game with the cool retro graphic box? I love that I can pay with a tweet or a facebook post. But truly I would love to be able to open that wonderfully weighted retro wood burned box. Oh well..... can't have em all.

But maybe the folks who brought us fontspotting™ will delight us with a printable version of the box design so that perhaps something cold be simulated at home? Please?

I could do this very easily on paper and apply it to a proper paper
Mache box. Or a printable foldable pattern could be done easily
enough. I think. I mean they make a paper TARDIS so it can not
be that hard.... says the mathematically challenged geek to the font
geeks. Sorry..... carry on.
The photo is not used by permission. However, in the interest of
promoting a very cool product, I felt that the use in this post falls
under the fair use common attribution officious poop that the
DMCA regulates. End disclaimer. End discussion. Go download
this wonderful gift.  

 

I did warn you that I would be using the keyboard shortcuts a lot more;
get comfy with them.

Ponderous

One of the things that creative people, especially creative Geeks, is how to navigate the world without giving up on your own personal vision of your life. There is a balance between what must be done to "pay the mortgage" and what must be done to "placate the soul". Geeks throughout time immemorial have struggled with fitting in and following the Muse. And in following the Muse most creative die penniless and starving. However most of them have left a permanent mark on the world. So then it becomes the matter of "What matters to you?"

Lately the struggle has been more pronounced than ever. And lately the world has been throwing Bill Watterson me every couple of days. Calvin and Hobbes was the best part of every day of high school. I have a couple of the collections. I wish..... as I have said forever now...... that there were Calvin and Hobbes emoticons. I want Merch so that I can wave my freak flag even higher, or more colorfully. Whichever. There is a  reason that there is no merch. And I had 5 great years of camaraderie with Calvin. But since he keeps coming up in conversation so much since the announcement of a documentary on him, I thought I would take some time to listen to the Master of Observation himself.

The link is to a college commencement address from 1990. I've added the blog that I found it on to the reading list at the right. I would parse the meanings that I derived from it but I think that it would do well for you to find your own gems within.

For myself: I need to show up. I am so focused on the daily grind because I have been forced to take on a "REaL" job that I have neglected some of the things that feed the creativity that I want to be the source of my livelihood rather than the real job. No one of greatness gets anywhere waiting for Fate to intervene. You pretty much have to have your hat, coat, wellies, on and suitcase in hand waiting at the door (or in the case of Pond, sitting in the garden) for Fate to show up cause she isn't going to wait for you to get ready.

Random Adventures About Town

 

 

The Traverse City State Hospital was built in 1911... or established in 1911. The history is almost irrelevant today as I am mainly enthralled by today's adventure. A friend of mine and I went up today to toddle around and take pictures of the patina and decay before the reclamation process makes it all shiny and new again. The place has character in any state of existence, it has a story for almost every resident of our fair city. But today was about the design  and the patterns of life etched across those designs. If anything could stand as a symbol for change this is the place. Since my friend is moving on to other things in her young life it seemed the right way to celebrate her changes.

 

After traveling the exterior footprints of the remaining buildings we arrived back where we started and finished the adventure with a wonderful Italian meal made by authentic Italian transplants here. The various stages of construction flowed from one design aesthetic to the other. Some places bore an Italianate design as is fitting since the developers are Italian. Others had a decidedly Dutch/German/Scandanavian face. In several spots I thought that we were on the grounds of a glorious European castle.... or at least could fake it well for a while.

 

My thoughts kept returning to the Gothic architecture and the things in my art history class that are fading without constant use, my heart kept turning back to the idea that I need to get to Germany. Drawn almost inexplicably, the desire to go does not diminish. And this façade did nothing to ease the desires....

 

For whatever reason this octagonal bay protruding into an almost enclosed courtyard seemed to me the most German face on any of the building. Simple, strong design, clean lines and honestly, one of the best looking of the older buildings and stark in its contrasts just seemed to say Middle Germany. Maybe not middle ages Europe. But Middle Germany. The only thing that is missing here is a couple of swans swimming in a moat or a pond with Willow trees framing the picture. Matthias' Schwanenkönig played in my head while Sarah and I blithely snapped picture after picture.

 

Coming around one corner at the right of this picture we found gables in dire need of restoration but still beautiful in its state of decay...

This reminded me of the canal houses along the rivers and in the ports of just about every country touching the North Sea. I t needs so much care and attention. With its great bones still in tact, and amazingly, with its gingerbread still held aloft, the character and rich tradition of craftsman ship that was once part of our American heritage is evident still. With the weathered textures and crumbling blocks that heritage's European roots show. And knowing that Europe protects and honors its cultural heritage far better than we do here, I think is what made me think of Europe, Germany all night.

As we left we heard parts of an open air concert on the lawn behind Building 50, the State Hospital's most recognized sector. How wonderfully weird it would have been to have had the power to blend all my interests in that moment and have Matthias here on the grounds or put Building 50 in Europe at one of his up coming venues. I would love a time when all of my weird interests could collide in a spectacular revel.

 

Alas... that will have to wait for the dreamscape.

 

I learned a few things about me and my ambitions tonight while talking with Sarah.

I learned about my shortcomings in the skills department. The panoramic setting still escapes me and the composite image about shows me I need to work on those skills.

 

I have plenty of Summer sunlight left to practice.

And plenty of Life to work those ambitions out.

 

But for now I must go to bed. Its' been a long three days and I am overly tired. If I do not dream of dragons, unicorns and rampant lions tonight I will be surprised.

Pop Life

Is it street art? Is it graffiti? Is it in poor taste? Is it worth anything at all? I know how the city feels about this kind of thing. And since it is not a random "gang" tag but a pop icon in the geek world I can let a whole lot of frustration slide on this one.

It's Dexter for crying out loud!

Found him under the overpass crossing the mouth of the river that bisects my fair city. Dexter without his lab.... it's enough to make a kid cranky. But I thought it was genius on my walk.

Did the Doctor Kill van Gogh?

I watched a Matt Smith episode of Doctor Who in which we meet Vincent van Gogh. There comes a point in which van Gogh gets to see a Paris museum full of his work. And he gets to hear what someone in the future thinks of him, specifically the exhibit curator. The doctor's companion expects there to be more paintings, that perhaps he found enough happiness to not kill himself.

Traveling in time changed very little for him. Knowing the future, knowing his value changed nothing. van Gogh still dies. He still commits suicide. Some things did change. Subtle things that most of the rest of the world would never notice...

And I ask myself a question or several.

Could that visit with the doctor have been what made him do it in the first place? Yes I realize this is all a fictional account, an entertainment. But as an artist at the crux of a conundrum in which time branches into many possible futures, would I want to know how my art is received?

My immediate reaction to the Doctor taking van Gogh forward was "How Cool is That?" Really how wonderful would it be to have encouragement like that? There are so many moments of self doubt. You wonder if you are serving your art for a purpose or if it is sucking the life out of you. You wonder if there is ever going to be a time when it is worth it. And there are times, even before there were a bunch of episodes about visiting with famous people, you wish you could go to the future and show everyone that your life will turn out fine.

The problem is, you would need the Doctor to know that. Or you would need to have a T.A.R.D.I.S of your own to show them the future turns out just fine. But what are the odds that I will ever have a body of work as significant to the art world as van Gogh's? Still it would be nice to know that sticking with art is the right choice.

But what if I could go forward and it turned out that I was not an artist? What if in my whole life I could never sell anything? What if the future showed me that it would be a good time to pack it in? And then that begs the question, is money all that matters? And then I ask myself, how other than money do you find the future person to tell you what your art means to someone outside of yourself? Is there even a quantifier for that, one that you would believe if it were shown you?

Would I believe it? Or would that thing inside my head that always tells me that there is no point in what I do other than my own satisfaction and the use of cheap therapy tell me that no ones opinion matters because they are just being nice?

How did knowing that millions of people enjoy his work for hundreds of years not matter to him? How could depression win? Because the success of a body of work is not the thing. Depression wins most of the time. People's opinions do not matter. It is the conversation in an artist's head that matters. I don't know that the Doctor thought it would make a difference. Amy thought so. But I know better. What is in our heads wins.

So I guess maybe I would not want to know how people feel. And I am not sure that I would want to meet the people whom I admire if I could travel in time.

Architectural Geek

I do not know if it was the set of building blocks or the Fisher Price castle play set that I had when I was a kid that did it. But I have loved buildings since I can remember... ya know, it might have been the Gothic styled church I attended too. Exterior details that look like icing on an elaborate wedding cake are practically non-existent in modern architecture. While I live in the northern part of Michigan where one would think we are about as progressive as Jed Klampett, progress seems to be the main drive of the ruling establishment. It has since I was a little kid. We tend to tear down everything that is too expensive to fix and throw some bland expensive building up with no personality.

Our old Gothic revival styled church was replaced with a sprawling monstrosity of modernity and innovation. Stylistically I have hated the new church since its erection. Granted, on a dark Sunday after watching a horror movie, I was not terribly interested in being inside the church. I expected every daintily crenellated niche shelf to throw it statuary to the ground right on top of the first row. Or worse, bleed on Father Officiating at the Time from on high while he is blessing the sacraments. But on a sunny day with all those colors dancing in the nave and the gold gilt glinting... it really was very much like magic.

Other churches in town, smaller denominations, were able to sell their buildings to be renovated for single family use so there are some great old bones with new paint on them. But we razed our church. Logistically it was not possible to sell. It sat on the corner of a block where the school was. Renovating for the churches continued use was out of the question. So I am sure turning it into apartments was a huge "Hell NO". But it would have been a marvelous place to live.

Of course all the gingerbread that adorned these old buildings is gone. Some people might have decided to replace it all with the modern equivalent. But it is expensive. And it is a great place for roosting pigeons and seagulls who get lost. That is why mom took all the gingerbread off of our Queen Anne. Why she made it into a monster of an eye-sore is another question. And i guess that is also part of what makes me such a sucker for architecture.

They are beautiful to look at. And when you think of the time it takes to learn those skills. And the great skill that develops to be able to carve the ornaments for pediments and mouldings... so many people would have jobs and a place to live if we didn't keep reducing everything to its most bland and basic. There is no market for those skills. So the people who have that hands and eye for creativity have fewer outlets. And we have a growing population of homogeneous buildings that lack character and distinction. And thus, my eye is ever drawn to Europe. The past sits alongside the present and rushes into the future. In some places it is not working so well. But in others it shows a glorious pastiche of a city's heritage. And it is inspirational...

I guess that is the extent of my romanticism: To be surrounded by beauty that sits upon firm foundations. I'm not a unicorns and gummybears romantic that thinks every pumpkin is the coach to my prince's castle. I am a romantic that believes there should be beauty in every life no matter what social status or income level. I hold that a beautiful place to live would inspire someone to rise above their limitations. So that means that I lean toward the altruistic. Because I know that those who thought a beautiful tenement in NYC would inspire the poor to live cleanly if cheaply were horribly disappointed when the wrong element came in. Poverty is not the indicator of that element though it is often misconstrued as such. Anyone, no matter the net worth can be a slob. But that is a rant for another time.

I am an architecture geek. And I think that is one of the reasons that I love my game so much. The security measures that were up are down. And I spent some time in world taking more pictures... just in case. I will go back today and do more. The things that are possible with a few props and some good photos to lay over them for texture really is only limited by imagination & a little knowledge.

Take the photo at right. Those "portholes" would never hold water in the real world. But I clipped them out of a Victorian styled building anyway, applied them to a prop and voila! A window. Behind that prop is another with the "scenery" behind it. In this case my avatar gets to live the undersea adventures of a refined yet deranged sea captain's guest.

This is a place where you can really mix and match eras in true steampunk fashion. I forgot to take a pic of the lighting arrangements that I have going on. They are craftsman styled and very much belong to the craftsman and mission aesthetic. But put them here and they are very "nautical"  & scream function over form.

You can see that the walls are a corrugated metal. I was inspired by the Mackinaw Brewing Company's maritime wall. One would think that this could be rather limiting. But if you treat the walls uniformly then you can do anything that you want to with the decor and still have something that is cohesive without being boring. I try to keep things from being jarringly noticeable. In the Wintergarten the aesthetic has gotten a little loose. I'll have to tighten things up a bit and take down the Christmas decorations. And while the maritime feel can seem limiting, if I keep to a palette I can do above and below surface for decore and it will still make sense.

I am trying to find compass roses that I like. Being the finicky kind, I will most likely have to bite the bullet and paint one myself. I decided if I want a leaded glass dome like many historical european gazaebos in the public parks that I will have to paint that myself to use as a texture. That is gonna be a lot of painting! Sheesh!

But ahhhh...... the joys of design!

There are sorrows aplenty too. And if it were not for the great masters of art & architecture that have come before, then none of this would be possible either: Gaudi, Barma & Postnik, de Chelles, Guimard, Ramsey, Schumacher, Baehr, Grosvenor, Ohlmstead, and countless others who have yet to be discovered.

Ridiculously Happy

This makes me ridiculously happy. Normally not a pink kinda girl. There is just something so happy about the colors and the motif that just screams "Sunny Day!" and chases the blues away. I can almost feel the sweet cold juice in my mouth and the pleasantly grainy texture on my tongue. It is refreshing. Nourishing. And in many ways that kind of refreshment is invigorating. I think that is why pears are among my favorite foods.

And that is why art is so important... because the way things are represented artistically has the power to enliven and invigorate the soul the same way the actual object does the body.

And thanks to Martha for permission to reprint. I am hoping to find the right encouragement to add text to this for a mood boost at work. We need something that is nicer than "drama free" work zone.

Euro-centric

One friend of mine, as I introduced her to Matthias Reim music raved about an Italian metal band called Lacuna Coil while another friend has introduced me to Finnish band Nightwish. As I listen to this music Iam struck by how similar each of them are stylistically. That is not to say they copy each other. There is a common artistic sensibility that I think comes from living, breathing and learning music in a region rich with the history of classical and operatic music.

You can hear its influence in Matze's music where it is used for dramatic effect to introduce a pop (schlager) song where these other two bands launch into the richness of the tradition and bring it front and center of metal styles. The screaming guitar riffs don't seem so disjointed in European music as it does in American. I think of Van Hallen. While it is impressive what Eddie can do with his guitar there is little else from the rest of the band that really makes it feel solid. Now I have very European tastes so maybe that is why I have never really liked our hair bands and industrial metal. It just seems like most American music stops just short of being finished.

Though when I think of bands like Creed, Beck, Blaq Audio and the like there is still a lot of meat on the bones with these guys. But in terms of the richness of track layering it still seems lighter. And for no really good reason, I think it is because as a collective of New World-ers, we tried so hard to leave our European roots behind us that we didn't keep the best parts, the parts worth saving. Really, when you think of it how many truly great classical composers have we produced compared with Europe? we can appreciate it. But we don't learn it. Maybe it is different when you are in a music school like Interlochen or Julliard. For the rest of us it gets glossed over.

I was watching something on the official YouTube Nightwish channel and the band member being interviewed was talking about 70 percussion tracks and that being only half enough to do the job. 70? Are there 70 different kinds of drums? No. But to get one drum to be able to do ALL of the cool things that it can do and ALL AT ONCE I can see where you'd have to have multiple tracks. And that is the thing... the orchestration is the key. It is the support for the whole house of cards.

Layers. Richness. It all amounts to a vitality that I think is lacking in American music today. Look for example to Sting. English, with a rich education in European music, comes to America and when you compare his compositions to his contemporaries there is a depth of tonality that is missing from say Hall and Oates or Springsteen. Today it seems more to be about the costumes and the personality than it is about the music. Maybe not in Lady Gaga's case since she is classically trained. But there is little soul and a lot of heel in the modern stuff. And very little of it deals with the condition of being human and having a soul whether Heaven bound or for Hell. Its about the party and the temporary. Great for living in the moment if that moment is in Neverland.

I guess I just have a Euro-centric soul. Let's hope that this all sinks in an comes out as I write for NaNo in a few days. I think all of this is the perfect soundtrack for my plot.

It's never what anyone expects

or "This probably belongs on the art blog but it is a life issue as well"

I am in a new place. I do not know how long I will be here. But it is mine for the time being and I will spend most of this week making it mine even though I want to make art. I have too much in my head that needs to get made. And now I do not really want to be at work, or with friends of any nature. So today as I am getting my head out of the foggy grey morning air, I am catching up on my blog reading. Martha over at Art du Jour (www.marthalever.blogspot.com) left an update that got me thinking several things.

• It takes a special person to spend 5 hours putting together an easel even with the instructions.
• It takes a special person to spend lifetime living in an artists studio and not be an artist.
• It takes an extremely special person to avoid relegating the artwork and its production to the basement, backroom, loft above the garage, a closet in the spare bedroom or even the spare bedroom.
• To make art one usually ends up living, breathing and expelling art. And in some cases, eating drinking, peeing and pooping art because it is everywhere.
• The production of art is organized chaos and it looks like a mess to the untrained and unintiated eye.

Why does all this matter, my art friends ask. They already know these things. I guess it was just looking at the photos of her easel and seeing the house surrounding it that things sunk in for me. Art is expansive. It broadens (hopefully) the viewers horizons. But in the practical everyday situation of living and working with your art, the art expands its territory. When I think back to all my works and the places that I made it, I recall how it could not be contained in one place. In much the same way that my whole home was dedicated to the day care (with the exception of my bedroom) the studio has been, quite literally, the whole house. The reason that it matters is because not many people can live like that.

When you produce something that needs to dry in stages or cure it needs to be left out where it will not be disturbed. When you have a piece that will not come together no matter what you do to it, it needs to sit out or sit aside while you work on something else. And then you can come back to it when you or the work has mellowed. These things are not predictable. Artists do not paint by numbers. They paint by trial and error. For the most part we know how tools and materials will behave... that is the skill part. It is how the concept behaves that determines ones success or failure on a given day. It can not be said always that you will paint from 2 to 4pm and have a complete work. It is a goal to strive for. But it does not always happen. And sometimes, most often in the case of assemblage or collage, you cull pieces for a series of works on a theme and have to leave them in various piles in semi-completed stages before the end run where several of them can be finished off at once.

Its messy. Its complicated. Its the best metaphor for life that I know. And it is hard for people who llike order and "clean" spaces. Its also hard for people who want to be the only thing in the spaces in your heart. But artwork takes it all. The thing that you are that makes you an artist is in everything that you are. And when you are in the process of creating art, having already distilled the feelings and experiences that are your inspiration, the art percolates through all the spaces in your life and it comes out in a finished product. Or with any luck, in my case, enough pieces for a good show.

I am in full blown art mode. That pretty much means that I am unavailable for everyone else. And I do not know how well that is going to go over. I can garauntee that my friends will be more annoyed with me than ever before. And with the things that I have to do for the people who want to help me with vocational training and get a real job... well they are gonna be pissed at me as well. But it can not be helped. I have many ideas both great and small. And not much time to get them done in.

Sheesh and if its gonna keep raining so that I can not ever go take pics of Traverse then I will have nothing to do BUT art.  At any rate... pop over to Martha's blog to see what I am talking about. it is a place of exuberant expression where I do not believe repression or suppression has ever had a foot hold. Having been in Michelle's studio when she lived close by I can tell you that the best studios for inspiration are some of the messiest places on Earth. But it is a good thing.

Vision

Whatever you call it, second sight, premonitions, angelic messeges or having a direct line to the big guy... there really is no denying that there are people who know things that they shouldn't know. At least that is according to the "normal" people. Some people are just really good at seeing the underlying truths in facial expressions and body language. Some are very intuitive and conencted to the subtleties of that "still small voice". I have no doubts that the people who know things know them. And I have no doubt that those things come from God either directly as in the case of a Burning Bush or through angels and the assortment of divine beings He can dispatch at a moments notice.

I think that because we are not so good at accepting what our "gut" or our "internal voice" is telling us, we rely on things outside of ourselves. This is probably where most of our superstitions come from, how we attribute meaning to things and call them Omens and Portends. We are a superstitious lot. but only because we do not trust ourselves. And its this idea that we get messeges all the time but do not trust them unless they are attached to a something that I find intriguing. I never used to have that problem.

When I was a kid I would spout off about something and scare the Jebus out of my mom. I'm sure there were times that she thought I was possessed. But Gramma, my good, gentle Irish to the core gramma had no trouble calling it a gift and crediting where credit was due. Still, as I got older and we started studying classical myths in class and then began looking at all kinds of belief systems as an artist, I realise that this superstitiousness has given us a rich iconography. There is meaning in just about everything and in many cases those meanings are universal.

Because I am all about relearning to trust my intincts, I am particularly attracted to the Crow. Not only is it a harbinger of the coming Halloween season... a fairly modern attribution. The Crow has a profound meaning in the Omens and Portends category from way back. Crows are carrion birds so they often signal death. Of course the logical mind can point out that the crow, in the case of death, is simply stating the obvious. But the crow, fast and straight as it flies, has been considered a messenger. It is the nearly universal symbol of augury or Future Sight.

Crows are everywhere. Call them Ravens, crows or grackles they are rather interchangeable (though you will make ornithologists cringe). Crows are also unafraid of most people. They are seldom daunted by our tricks to keep them out of fields. A scarecrow is a joke.... I've yet to see one really work. And that, may be the most important messege that can come from a crow. What ever it is that you need to do you should do.

Birds of meaning. Birds of necessity.

Traditionally the crow is a bird of war as much of seeing the far flung effects of action and an ever present reminder that in the end it is not your body that will remain. The dove is a bird of peace and tranquility. A bird of love. And my logical mind has just kicked in a realized that doves are essentially the pretty pigeons and all they do is crap on things and reproduce. Crows clean up the messes made by life.....

Apologies friends... the caffeine has not kicked in yet and my morbidity is in full bloom today. But I also remember that the dove is a bird of hope for after the flood it was the one who did not give up until it found a bit of green. The raven was sent out and it came back to wait for hope to show up. The raven looks for land from a safe spot (think crows nest) rather than go out looking for it.

Hmmm.... metaphors really are imperfect aren't they?

At any rate, I do chose to see the crow as a bird of vision.... the far off shore where landing is safe.

This is the beginning of the crow series that I mentioned before.