I was sitting in the local Panera this afternoon having some lunch (tomato soup, tomato/mozarella panini, iced tea) when I became utterly fascinated with the back of the head of a baby that was perched in a high chair a few feet from me. This child was slender and way its large, almost perfectly round head was perched on its tiny little neck- and especially the indentation formed between the tendons at the meeting point transfixed me. The little seashell-like ears jutting out on either side completed the composition.
The whole picture was just utterly delicious.
Was I filled with longing to have one such creature of my own? No. I was content to enjoy the sight and let it pass when the parents finished their meal and left. Even if I had such a longing, my biological alarm clock has long since rung and been flung against the wall, smashing into smithereens. No, my appreciation of that tender sight was just that- an appreciation without covetousness, for which I am grateful.
May I be open to more such happenstances, more tiny everyday miracles.
Bits & bobs of my life as an artist, bricoleur, mythologenist, logophile, reader, thinker and tea-drinker
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
A Curse For Our Times
Although I strive for kindness in all things, I do make pre-emptive moves to protect my works. But in the cyber world such protections as copyright registration seem to carry little weight. A friend sent me a link to a Wiki article about "book curses," used in long-ago times when each book was hand-made and was considered a precious object in and of itself- not just for the knowledge it contained (precious enough on its own merit.) These curses were written into the books by the scribes and called down the wrath of God upon book thieves and even book "borrowers" who neglect to return the volume.
Perhaps it is time to update the "book curse." So, here is a modern version:
"For him that stealeth this image from its owner, let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with palsy, and all his members blasted. Let him languish in pain crying out for mercy, & let there be no surcease to his agony till he sing in dissolution. Let computerworms gnaw his entrails ... when at last he goeth to his final punishment, let the flames of Hell consume him forever."
Perhaps it is time to update the "book curse." So, here is a modern version:
"For him that stealeth this image from its owner, let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with palsy, and all his members blasted. Let him languish in pain crying out for mercy, & let there be no surcease to his agony till he sing in dissolution. Let computerworms gnaw his entrails ... when at last he goeth to his final punishment, let the flames of Hell consume him forever."
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Out of Touch
Oh the perils of dependence on electronic communications... my computer died about 10 days ago and I was without web-based communications for a week... I was in the process of switching ISPs at the same time so my email had no home from which to retrieve it. Worst of all I couldn't indulge in one of my favorite diversions- Civilization. (Yeah, I know- ) Anyway, it was a real lesson to me about how much time I fritter away being diverted and maybe I should be making art instead or having a social life. Especially since I now have another "B" job (my art being my "A" job) and will in a month or so have a third "B" job at the nursery- and hopefully more web design jobs sprinkled in here and there. Teaching goes until May- for a month or so I will be extremely busy. I vaguely remember being very busy, it was tiring but good...
Anyway, I have a nice second-hand machine now and it is running like a top. I had a few beloved programs on the old machine that were lost in the crash and burn of the hard-drive (do I hear a chorus of "you did back things up didn't you?" in the background. Only a few things, but fortunately Gerry Brady at MacDiagnostics saved my sorry butt.) Especially Notetaker from Aquaminds. They and the other apps' developers very kindly sent me my original registration/license codes so I could get new copies. I would really miss my journals in the form of old-fashioned spiral-bound notebooks. I have a real nostalgia for them and I love the concept of a cyber version of the oaktag and wire notebooks.
So, I am back on the web. I still have some problems with sending email but I am working on those.
Oh- I have a few minutes- I can get on with building the Great Library and eventually dominating the entire world...
PS- Here is the piece currently on display at the WAAM's Small Works Show: ( I also have a piece in the upstairs show but I neglected to photograph it...)
"The Birds of Ulster County: Raven"
Anyway, I have a nice second-hand machine now and it is running like a top. I had a few beloved programs on the old machine that were lost in the crash and burn of the hard-drive (do I hear a chorus of "you did back things up didn't you?" in the background. Only a few things, but fortunately Gerry Brady at MacDiagnostics saved my sorry butt.) Especially Notetaker from Aquaminds. They and the other apps' developers very kindly sent me my original registration/license codes so I could get new copies. I would really miss my journals in the form of old-fashioned spiral-bound notebooks. I have a real nostalgia for them and I love the concept of a cyber version of the oaktag and wire notebooks.
So, I am back on the web. I still have some problems with sending email but I am working on those.
Oh- I have a few minutes- I can get on with building the Great Library and eventually dominating the entire world...
PS- Here is the piece currently on display at the WAAM's Small Works Show: ( I also have a piece in the upstairs show but I neglected to photograph it...)
"The Birds of Ulster County: Raven"
Monday, February 23, 2009
Coraline, hmmm...
I saw the animated movie, "Coraline" over the weekend (not the 3D version, more's the pity.) I had an odd, delayed, reaction to it. Don't get me wrong, the animation and the art direction/design are wonderful. But...
I left the movie theatre cheerfully bouyant, had a very good East Asian supper with a friend, and then when I got home I felt horribly displaced- like I really should have gone to my former home, walked to the back door, through the garden under a starry sky, and sat by a crackling fire in the fire place before retiring. Instead I came back to an apartment that that evening all I could see were its many faults, and when I dreamt that night, I dreamt disturbing dreams of Thrums End.
I had an experience like that years ago when I was living in Brooklyn. I had walked the 10 blocks to the local cinema to see Albert Brooks' "Defending Your Life," ostensibly a comedy. I had left the cinema cheerful but by the time I had walked the 10 blocks home, I was in tears. The premise of the film was that as a child, the main character had not stood up to a much older and larger bully and was therefore going to be punished for eternity. Unfortunately, that storyline dovetailed rather too neatly with my own view of God at that time. To say it triggered some existential angst was an understatement.
So, what was it about "Coraline" that caused me to react so?
The parents were cold and distant, more concerned with working than paying any attention to their child; the home they had moved into looked dreary and, again, cold. There was no comfort to be found anywhere in that place. The parents could only be kind and loving to Coraline after they had brought in money- so the equivalence was made: poverty=coldness, not loving; money=warmth, loving. Maybe that was what triggered my reaction.
Anyway, was it a good movie- I can't really say. But that's just me...
I left the movie theatre cheerfully bouyant, had a very good East Asian supper with a friend, and then when I got home I felt horribly displaced- like I really should have gone to my former home, walked to the back door, through the garden under a starry sky, and sat by a crackling fire in the fire place before retiring. Instead I came back to an apartment that that evening all I could see were its many faults, and when I dreamt that night, I dreamt disturbing dreams of Thrums End.
I had an experience like that years ago when I was living in Brooklyn. I had walked the 10 blocks to the local cinema to see Albert Brooks' "Defending Your Life," ostensibly a comedy. I had left the cinema cheerful but by the time I had walked the 10 blocks home, I was in tears. The premise of the film was that as a child, the main character had not stood up to a much older and larger bully and was therefore going to be punished for eternity. Unfortunately, that storyline dovetailed rather too neatly with my own view of God at that time. To say it triggered some existential angst was an understatement.
So, what was it about "Coraline" that caused me to react so?
The parents were cold and distant, more concerned with working than paying any attention to their child; the home they had moved into looked dreary and, again, cold. There was no comfort to be found anywhere in that place. The parents could only be kind and loving to Coraline after they had brought in money- so the equivalence was made: poverty=coldness, not loving; money=warmth, loving. Maybe that was what triggered my reaction.
Anyway, was it a good movie- I can't really say. But that's just me...
Friday, February 20, 2009
Aha!!!
Glorioski! I have found my art-ism! My place in the art universe. I am a Stuckist. (profound silence except for the chirping of crickets follows.)
Okay, so what is Stuckism? Well, go here to read the Remodernist manifesto.
I must add that I am very grateful to the founders of Stuckism for not only giving me an identifiable group but also for sparing me the task of having to write my own manifesto. I merely had to go to the cathedral of contemporary art, step up to the doors and read the theses, as it were.
Am I being facetious? No, I am not. I have felt alienated from much of the contemporary art world's cynicism and over-reliance on irony and just plain snarkiness for some time. Also its promotion of profoundly unskilled and untalented people. I visited the Tate Modern the last time I was in London and it had a tremendous effect on me. I was quite thrilled to see the work in the galleries devoted to Stanley ("Cookham") Spencer and other between-the-wars painters. I was quite dismayed when I was in the galleries devoted to very contemporary conceptual art- which seems to only embody the concept "I can't draw, and I can't paint, but I can self-promote to gullible people who are only interested in appearing hip." I had left the former galleries inspired and delighted; the latter, disturbed and upset. Later, when I was talking with the friends I was staying with, I mentioned that since the purpose of the very contemporary art at the Tate seems to be to disturb, and there was much of it concentrated in one place- I left the museum disturbed and upset.
I would rather that after looking at my work, people are thoughtful, inspired and- dare I say it- delighted.
Stuckists of the world unite! You have nothing to lose but your cynicism!
Okay, so what is Stuckism? Well, go here to read the Remodernist manifesto.
I must add that I am very grateful to the founders of Stuckism for not only giving me an identifiable group but also for sparing me the task of having to write my own manifesto. I merely had to go to the cathedral of contemporary art, step up to the doors and read the theses, as it were.
Am I being facetious? No, I am not. I have felt alienated from much of the contemporary art world's cynicism and over-reliance on irony and just plain snarkiness for some time. Also its promotion of profoundly unskilled and untalented people. I visited the Tate Modern the last time I was in London and it had a tremendous effect on me. I was quite thrilled to see the work in the galleries devoted to Stanley ("Cookham") Spencer and other between-the-wars painters. I was quite dismayed when I was in the galleries devoted to very contemporary conceptual art- which seems to only embody the concept "I can't draw, and I can't paint, but I can self-promote to gullible people who are only interested in appearing hip." I had left the former galleries inspired and delighted; the latter, disturbed and upset. Later, when I was talking with the friends I was staying with, I mentioned that since the purpose of the very contemporary art at the Tate seems to be to disturb, and there was much of it concentrated in one place- I left the museum disturbed and upset.
I would rather that after looking at my work, people are thoughtful, inspired and- dare I say it- delighted.
Stuckists of the world unite! You have nothing to lose but your cynicism!
Friday, February 13, 2009
The Humble Button
A very amusing snippet about buttons and Koumpounophobia- the fear thereof, from Neil Gaiman.
http://www.boingboing.net/2009/02/07/neil-gaiman-on-the-h.html
(Buttons rule)
Thursday, February 12, 2009
I Thought It Was Over...
But I was wrong. I have been out of my former home since September but in the virtual world I was still living at Thrums End. My web site was still up- frozen in time since then but no indication on the site that the house, studio and gardens were no longer mine. The site also had much about my work but according to the statistics, as many people visited the pages about the home as they did for the art. I knew I had to deal with it but I just didn't have the heart.
I had actually built a new site and secured a new domain late last year, but had not arranged for hosting nor finished all the little coding details- yes, I write the code myself. The pressure to close this chapter of my life was building, the hosting for the old site was expensive and holding onto the last shreds of Thrums End was becoming intolerable. I felt dishonest sending people to the old site- it was no longer me.
Well, the time finally came this week. Another tie to my old life has been cut. I had an ache in my heart the whole time and I did shed some tears but I did it . The old site served me well for 16 years, practically an eternity in the life of the internet. All there is left is a placeholder page and soon going to the old address will send visitors immediately to the new address. So, thrumsend.com is dead; long live ButtonwoodArt.com. I hope you enjoy your visit.
(PS The Word Project site has been carried over to the new site)
I had actually built a new site and secured a new domain late last year, but had not arranged for hosting nor finished all the little coding details- yes, I write the code myself. The pressure to close this chapter of my life was building, the hosting for the old site was expensive and holding onto the last shreds of Thrums End was becoming intolerable. I felt dishonest sending people to the old site- it was no longer me.
Well, the time finally came this week. Another tie to my old life has been cut. I had an ache in my heart the whole time and I did shed some tears but I did it . The old site served me well for 16 years, practically an eternity in the life of the internet. All there is left is a placeholder page and soon going to the old address will send visitors immediately to the new address. So, thrumsend.com is dead; long live ButtonwoodArt.com. I hope you enjoy your visit.
(PS The Word Project site has been carried over to the new site)
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