Imagination is Intelligence Having Fun

Just to prove we haven't been entirely useless......the newest 'Robot' Sculpture "Motorcycle Man".
This was actually created for a friend from my long ago school days and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.
Here's what it is made from:
An old mouse, kitchen faucet attachment, salad tongs..or maybe sugar cube tongs -they were kinda small- (arms), bike part bits, kid's scooter parts, old metal candle holder, old pedometer, old sewing machine foot attachments, plumbing parts,nuts and bolts and, decidedly most important, an old cat food tin bike stand. Thank you, Jammies.
I had to re-do it a couple of times because parts would break or it wouldn't 'fit together' and I admit at one point I was just plain fed up with fiddling around with any second longer but glad I persevered.
Didn't charge enough for all the work involved but that's pretty typical.....I never know what any of these sculptures is going to entail work wise.
..............zoom, zoom........

The Only Thing We Have To Fear....

I've been contemplating phobias, and this is why you ask? Well, after stepping out of my bath last night, I happened to notice the shrivelled remains of a largish spider floating around. Which means, so obviously, that the creature had been in the tub before I drew my bath and only because I was off in that land of the roller coaster I call my mind, that I missed it. I'm not a fan of spiders - one of the most common of phobias by the way - I think it's the basic wiggilyness of the darn little suckers that gets me - but it did creep me out to realize there was one sharing my bath with me. Mind you it was dead, clean and dead, but still.
Anytwilightzoneway, it sent me off into thinking about painting a series based on phobias and so, off I goes to that great resource of today : GOOGLE.
....holy messed up psyche Batman, are we ever strange! There is a phobia for just about everything we do/feel/say/see....it's mind boggling.
But, oh boy! What a rich resource for inspiration for a new series!
I'll let you know how it works out.

The picture is a part of a larger piece by Roy Lichenstien and I'll try to track down the whole name etc. Roy was pretty hot in the 60's/70's with his 'comic' paintings which basically took comic images and blew them up to about 300X the original size...or should that be 3000? What I wonder is: how did he get away with 'copying' the comic book artists work?

Been down so long.....

It's been a rough couple of weeks and the crowning glory to it all is that I got the flu and have been laid up in a nest of blankets with all the attendant paraphernalia that accompanies being sick - flat fizzy drinks (ginger ale) and toast. Oh, and Jams as the constant companion but I think mainly because she lusts after buttered toast.
Anyblowyournoseway, it had me thinking about being artistic and being 'struck low' so to speak and so I did a time honored Google search to find out what I could on just that topic. Aside from the best known 'sickies', Frida Kahlo and Van Gogh, it seems the vast majority of us suffer from a mental illness of one sort or another.
Isn't that telling.
Now why is this gift of creativity also a bit of a curse when it comes to mental stability? Certainly we all are generally labelled as being 'different' because of our penchant for the slightly outre or even  downright odd but why would this fecund imagination seemingly have us teetering on the edge of sanity? Is it that we struggle so long and hard for recognition and have what we create from our deep soul laid bare before the many who cannot understand, that it finally leads us to just bloody give up and retreat into that comfort zone of not even trying to be present in the world and zone out......
Well, perhaps this is all rhetorical and who can really say - we know so very little about how our brain works. 
Never mind creativity.
The painting: "Valentine Gode-Darel in illness" by Ferdinand Hodler. This was the artist's lover who contracted uterine cancer after giving birth to their child.  He created a series of paintings that documented the wasting away of Valentine and her eventual death - an extremely powerful series, hard to look at and, I would expect, even harder to paint.
Talk about a soul laid bare.

Don'wanna grow up......

I am in an odd place right now......and it has a lot of stress attached to it because I've taken on a position of great responsibility and I am dealing with a very difficult situation involving the Arts Society I am president of.
And, truthfully - I wish I could just go back to a big shirt and poster paints.
But there you go - this is the thing of being adult you didn't realize was part of the package when you were so young and naive to think being 'grown up' was co-o-o-ol.
It has consumed much of my time over the last weeks and has a lot to do with why I have been away from posting.
But you know, the only way out is through so I shall just deal with the situation as best I can because the ultimate goal is a clear and positive path forward for all the artists in my part of the world.
I am thankful to have some good people around me.
The odd thing - or not depending on your viewpoint - is that I feel a huge creative force building up in me even while dealing 'adultly' with this event, that is aching to get at a canvas and I often feel 'split' so to speak - and frustrated for sure - to just chuck it all and just be an artist painting away in my studio.
Anysuckitupbuttercupway, as much as we would like to have a lovely tra-la-la painting only all the time life, you are sometimes called to make sacrifices for the betterment of all. Call it the reckoning for the talent you have been blessed with.
All together now.

The painting: "I Don't Want To Grow Up" by Kim Robertini.
That says it all.

Brand New Canvas

Ah, yes, here we are  - - New Year's Eve and the inclination to post about all things 'Resolution' is temptation indeed. I am 'resolving' to refrain. I'm sure all of you can find that in spades all over cyberspace.
New Year's has always seemed an odd thing to me - no, no, not the whole 'celebrate another year/fresh start' tradition but the time of year it happens in. I've always thought Spring would be a good time with all that awakening of the earth business except Easter has that pretty much sewn up as IT'S own special time and you're left with the question about when to have a New Year and I guess after Christmas is sort of the 'Default' position.
Oh and I hate kissing strangers at midnight too. Really. Am grossed/creeped out by mashing lips with all and sundry.
Personal quirk.
Yes, and anygofigureway, I suppose having to mark a time of year for a fresh start is a good thing. Like a brand new canvas sitting in front of you. You have the vision; you are hoping/determined to make it the best one yet; maybe you'll cry in frustration/disappointment, maybe you'll get that 'nailed it!' feeling; you might, you might not but you're going to keep on going until you do.
Yeah....that's Life.
Just grab the brush (or whatever implement you have) and dive in.

The painting: " New Year's Poster " by Han-Wu Shen from China. That's some nice. Lots of symbolism and if you're Chinese you get it, it has a lot to do with the mythology inherit in the figure on the poster behind the young woman. I've got China on my mind because the Global Ed class at the local High School has asked me to do a poster for them as that's where they are going and they're trying to fund raise for that.
And I'm just feeling that if our schools can offer these programs then the world is not so bad.
And that's a nice way to feel at the start of a new year.

All In The Family

Every once in a while I get pulled up short by realizing just how good my life really is.....ok, ok, not gonna get all 'preachy' here.....just that this Christmas gave me something that made me sit up and take notice of how full of miracles life can really be.....and often hidden in the small details that can be so overlooked by the random chaos ordinary everyday life creates around us.

I was pretty blah about this holiday - I mean, Mom died around this time of year and I'm mostly alone on the morning of due to the life choices I've made and so on (and on apparently).

Anygettothestoryalreadyway, I was at the 'family' gathering Boxing Day night. And I have what could be construed as a 'different' family. It was a pretty momentous gathering too, because No. 1 son brought not only his beloved girlfriend up but her parents. A meeting of the clans, so to speak. Now, my 'family' is truly extended - there's the ex (father of my 2 sons), his wife (whom I am happy to call friend), her daughter (stepsister to my 2), her son (stepbrother to my 2), his 2 young children (grandkids to ex and wife), Wife's brother and mom, and me. This is decidedly new age, I think, and what the lovely parents of No.1 son's wonderful girlfriend got thrown into.

Add 3 dogs, a psycho goldfish, recalcitrant cat and your picture postcard is complete.

It was fantastic! At one point we spontaneously gathered around the piano and sang Xmas carols - I mean, pass the hankie! Seriously Norman Rockwell.

And my present of 'Snowball Guns' for the sons + girlfriends was a hit - score! for the ma! (I usually get the oddball but cool gifts if I can - part of the creative mind)

So! Here's to the hard to wrap moments we get 'present'ed with! I hope that all of you are gifted no matter what shape it takes.

With all the warmest and most heartfelt wishes!

The painting is "The Artist's Family" by Jan Steen - could there be a more appropo title? Or pic for that matter: there's the drinkers and the kids and the crazy Uncle getting the kids up to mischief and the singing and the music and good food and just plain old family good times.

An Artist's " Night Before Christmas "

With apologies to Clement Moore and, yes, I wrote it myself:


Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the studio
Not a paintbrush was stirring, the Artist wasn't in the moodio
The blank canvas was hung on the easel with care
In hopes that the Muse soon would be there

The paint was all nestled all snug in the jars
While visions and ideas were remote as Mars
And I as the Artist without sizzle or snap
The Creative spark was gone for a long winter's nap

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter
Away to the window I flew like a flash
Tore open the curtains and threw up the sash

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid day to objects below
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a miniature palette with eight arty deer

And a little old driver all covered in acrylic
I knew in a moment it was St. Arty Nick!
More rapid than brushstrokes, his art deer they came
He whistled and shouted, and called them by name

"Now Van Gogh! Now Rembrandt! Now O'Keeffe and Khalo!
On Rubens! On Escher! On Mucha and Picasso"
To the top of the easel! To the Studio wall!
Now paint away! Paint away! Paint away all!

As sketches that before a wild wind will fly
And met with an obstacle, mount to the sky
Up to the easel the art deer they flew
With a palette full of color and St Arty Nick too!

Then in a twinkling on the easel they stepped
Layered on some Gesso, the canvas was prepped
I blinked both my eyes and almost fell down
When up to the easel St Arty Nick bound

He was dressed all in paint clothes, from his head to his foot
And his hands were all smudgy from charcoal black as soot
A bundle of brushes he had flung on his back
He looked very messy, like me, that's a fact

His eyes-how they glittered! His teeth they were set
His cheeks were rose madder, his nose quite scarlet
His droll little mouth was a mixed media study
He was a walking art text book - really quite funny

The stump of a pencil he held in his hand
And he laid out a painting and it wasn't half bad
The lines were quite bold, the perspective a sensation
I knew all at once I had found inspiration

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work
And finished that painting with a flourish and perk
Then laying his paintbrush aside of his nose
He gave me a wink as to the palette he rose

He called to his art deer and loudly did whistle
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle
But I heard him exclaim and I really knew it
"You'll always be surrounded by the Creative Spirit!

The picture is by J. C. Leyendecker who I've featured before - a most accomplished illustrator who did quite a few Santas for magazines and advertising during the early part of the last century. I like his style very much.