tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57761093282191048452024-03-05T07:41:01.846-08:00ForsiderMental Magazinesromanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-37999945697473022232012-10-19T07:14:00.000-07:002012-10-19T07:14:20.539-07:00Back to the printing press<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPltEs8kzkd_6CDCzWMOXy8_4-kM_JOy-YEG9URo3-ks-TPL-YXjEmJDkagll6gmrBZXUHHQeJ8dYOxjDxoXvDFuF5g3v11MvFPG7d3dr-LA6NA_5JVVlRzXzmb9kwQA99bE6ctlg0Qc/s1600/Closets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="636" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPltEs8kzkd_6CDCzWMOXy8_4-kM_JOy-YEG9URo3-ks-TPL-YXjEmJDkagll6gmrBZXUHHQeJ8dYOxjDxoXvDFuF5g3v11MvFPG7d3dr-LA6NA_5JVVlRzXzmb9kwQA99bE6ctlg0Qc/s640/Closets.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Closets</i></b></div>
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Drypoint, edition size of 12, 2012</div>
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I'm getting back into etching and drypoints, now that I have access to a press.<br />
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<br />romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-40943718452538443712012-03-17T14:17:00.000-07:002012-03-17T14:17:38.915-07:00Self Portrait Fossil<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-L4vh2oHFFiTgdR92G5Iaq9a6g2kCtD37gbhrDHIbNH8dfaqvR2UXA5xBs3RFOstV4qf7AijZBil9Wrb-AFZifmX1TDV_g_ZbeCGw5SV0MKwYPmWPNLViSISyB5Qqq-EACOhj0Xhsimk/s1600/DSC06566.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="592" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-L4vh2oHFFiTgdR92G5Iaq9a6g2kCtD37gbhrDHIbNH8dfaqvR2UXA5xBs3RFOstV4qf7AijZBil9Wrb-AFZifmX1TDV_g_ZbeCGw5SV0MKwYPmWPNLViSISyB5Qqq-EACOhj0Xhsimk/s640/DSC06566.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQQZqHthWfIZL2EQpy37sACgeilgqLX_ORz2RyzhofANRmjYRAc8Ti8uf21P_Xvhpr0aWnFhLWnqBo-9JqtLaTdjf6GB_JeqXnbZERuUe69meVcby5LR4AubK8Z2h4XeZDlQ90Q-cPrs/s1600/DSC06567.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQQZqHthWfIZL2EQpy37sACgeilgqLX_ORz2RyzhofANRmjYRAc8Ti8uf21P_Xvhpr0aWnFhLWnqBo-9JqtLaTdjf6GB_JeqXnbZERuUe69meVcby5LR4AubK8Z2h4XeZDlQ90Q-cPrs/s320/DSC06567.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Here are two versions of a relief, of fossil sculpture, using some of my collection of Laramie objects. Is that a finger bone or a rabbit femur?<br />
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The medium is plaster with polychrome. The molds are latex rubber supported by expanding foam insulation. This allows for surprisingly deep undercuts, the bane of any relief-maker.<br />
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Most of the objects are cast from toys from the 1950s/60s--a rich era of pop expression. Included are some totemic charms, at that time made in Hong Kong. The cochlea is probably Jurassic, making the next oldest object, the arrowhead, a youthful soapsud of trivia in comparison. The maze, which appears fragmentary, is the youngest artifact, based on Pac Man, the meditative game of the 80s.romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-23675813340065220292012-02-25T13:37:00.000-08:002012-02-25T13:37:13.150-08:00Fossil from Laramidia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiN-tsCUwGVVowNvs6UkyJq059rH_2heeNb5cbM2ApToT5v3rHb9QINzRC2j6FSDheE9L2KKCrQQ8_5ewvCWN7tFM0NRowjttOiQYMyJwsvxqH96YHrbuFAetsfId6AaM6P83q_4TdgV4/s1600/laramidia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="619" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiN-tsCUwGVVowNvs6UkyJq059rH_2heeNb5cbM2ApToT5v3rHb9QINzRC2j6FSDheE9L2KKCrQQ8_5ewvCWN7tFM0NRowjttOiQYMyJwsvxqH96YHrbuFAetsfId6AaM6P83q_4TdgV4/s640/laramidia.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This is a scan of a recent work of painted plaster, castings of figures, fossilized artifacts from childhood in Laramie, Wyoming. I am pleased to read that Laramidia is now the official name of a vast island continent of North America during the Cretaceous period, when the continent that we know now was split by a sea. It is named after Laramie Wyoming. Though the objects fossilized in this work are recent (even the arrow head, relatively), this region of Wyoming is a fossil-land, offering up objects of such ancientness, my mind is boggled when I try to picture them in relation to time on a human scale (dinosaur bones, for example.)romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-49687182411561282882012-02-07T04:40:00.000-08:002012-02-07T04:40:28.262-08:00Dictatorial Morgtage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5dQ9Es5E_0FVsopHTVUYzupGS2IjVhwVz8AXfoN1sf2lkWIhEwootT93Ge-Je4huajIkj6WtG5cbWcgUNhgxuPgg4tXmtvDHCmVeG_2DKJlMPu8kilLx8znh9-mDcvIwOrjAuqepTN4c/s1600/dictators.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="483" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5dQ9Es5E_0FVsopHTVUYzupGS2IjVhwVz8AXfoN1sf2lkWIhEwootT93Ge-Je4huajIkj6WtG5cbWcgUNhgxuPgg4tXmtvDHCmVeG_2DKJlMPu8kilLx8znh9-mDcvIwOrjAuqepTN4c/s640/dictators.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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My recent <i>morgtage:</i></div>
Source material for a coming toon inspired by Russia and China's veto of the UN Security Council resolution, regarding Syria.romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-3976922931863324082012-02-05T11:39:00.000-08:002012-02-05T11:39:01.475-08:00Walt's Wonders<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1rSJbB5oEg2gzvIwei7gZ7QUXBRgaGVeoLl4YbdHKm9Fsq4rCi7n8Rkycri8WJNv2tQzxUO-PNwb45G8SJ-gt6jSFDqlbTudER_fI0RhdkBqBA58G23FrwfkbBlUCNE7XHwO0x_F5EDg/s1600/Walts+Wonders.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="547" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1rSJbB5oEg2gzvIwei7gZ7QUXBRgaGVeoLl4YbdHKm9Fsq4rCi7n8Rkycri8WJNv2tQzxUO-PNwb45G8SJ-gt6jSFDqlbTudER_fI0RhdkBqBA58G23FrwfkbBlUCNE7XHwO0x_F5EDg/s640/Walts+Wonders.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A <i>morgtage</i> for a large painting called <b>Walt's Wonders, </b>to be a large painting. This incorporates 10 different wonders of the world, potentially a messy and chaotic composition. The Great Wall of China helps to give a zig zag, or perspectival path for the viewer to follow.</div>
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I am attempting to coin this word, <i><b>morgtage</b></i>, which is phonetically pronounced, unlike mortgage; <b>morgtage</b> =morgue + montage, a montage of reference material, filed in what old time illustrators called a morgue, or swipe file. Illustrators, cartoonists and artists have always kept swipe files; appropriating or stealing images has been the stock and trade of the artist, just as much as a secret cavity has been the primordial organ for the smuggler. Perhaps google and photoshop have facilitated visual appropriation, but Picasso and Braque were collaging a century ago. Soon afterward the Soviets made airbrushing a verb, at least to kremlinologists and westerners, discussing political photo manipulation.</div>
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<br /></div>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-62897004570535308132011-11-12T13:17:00.000-08:002011-11-12T13:17:33.088-08:00Free guided tour on Thursday 17. Nov., kl. 1900<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGWVngyWFdcDBTS-1HaSFhGOXzD_wQJ1G2nJfL9UamG6ox0alFbUZRtePUTDlvZSaNJqgzpCWz8JRmePua0rqvo6rknWX_9RTkSQztYSP1MqeiZ40e9dfquEPfNXlu6tKX0g31XbHBBI/s1600/forsider+exhibition.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Gratis kveldsomvisning: torsdag 17. november kl. 1900:</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b> Norwegian Wood og Roman Scott </b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Here are views taken today of my exhibition at <a href="http://www.telemarkkunstnersenter.no/">Telemark Kunstnersenter:</a></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGWVngyWFdcDBTS-1HaSFhGOXzD_wQJ1G2nJfL9UamG6ox0alFbUZRtePUTDlvZSaNJqgzpCWz8JRmePua0rqvo6rknWX_9RTkSQztYSP1MqeiZ40e9dfquEPfNXlu6tKX0g31XbHBBI/s1600/forsider+exhibition.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGWVngyWFdcDBTS-1HaSFhGOXzD_wQJ1G2nJfL9UamG6ox0alFbUZRtePUTDlvZSaNJqgzpCWz8JRmePua0rqvo6rknWX_9RTkSQztYSP1MqeiZ40e9dfquEPfNXlu6tKX0g31XbHBBI/s400/forsider+exhibition.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1dDHRiX9nTNE9OpKc6udly_TSTcngQVMi-TQAMZZnPYuauAj5ZInJyEqdSS8uY6FBJueVhceJ6iKjd-aWWnIIJqZThRyEQ3_hrNqNkI8b6yic1YA8HLEw9Vu-OoIl0zqmN9UCWKPyR-M/s1600/DSC05898.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1dDHRiX9nTNE9OpKc6udly_TSTcngQVMi-TQAMZZnPYuauAj5ZInJyEqdSS8uY6FBJueVhceJ6iKjd-aWWnIIJqZThRyEQ3_hrNqNkI8b6yic1YA8HLEw9Vu-OoIl0zqmN9UCWKPyR-M/s400/DSC05898.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhAvWK3m9827jf97IpKOPjhhnq16_bGb9DMVuiJ9SGdjsfIsjY5o7M2hb-j5W5lxTnOGRlczvdirR3ftSvZKHZVGyDeZ7BMgUk8i-nIyfT_1Ji7p2_dS0z7k3266U_T0CC6_89eP1GK88/s1600/DSC05895.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhAvWK3m9827jf97IpKOPjhhnq16_bGb9DMVuiJ9SGdjsfIsjY5o7M2hb-j5W5lxTnOGRlczvdirR3ftSvZKHZVGyDeZ7BMgUk8i-nIyfT_1Ji7p2_dS0z7k3266U_T0CC6_89eP1GK88/s400/DSC05895.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-36156991921924306652011-10-29T00:48:00.000-07:002011-10-29T00:48:29.006-07:00Exhibition Opening<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtgha8S6aORAoSA0dPdfGJJtcZ5s83ou8T9qSji2tS_7wpt7h7_K5SGDCcBXrxwg11EGXgQ0THHryV9dNrfvqwioGoSDD671v5qKiIgESB09lDKWOJOJcMl4I6tov7d_x1JZUYrZrIpWc/s1600/roman+scott+plakat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtgha8S6aORAoSA0dPdfGJJtcZ5s83ou8T9qSji2tS_7wpt7h7_K5SGDCcBXrxwg11EGXgQ0THHryV9dNrfvqwioGoSDD671v5qKiIgESB09lDKWOJOJcMl4I6tov7d_x1JZUYrZrIpWc/s640/roman+scott+plakat.jpg" width="456" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Åpning: fredag 4. nov. kl. 1200</span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Kunstneren er tilstede også på <span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-size: large;">lørdag 5. nov. kl. 12-16</span></span></span></span></span></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.telemarkkunstnersenter.no/"><span style="font-family: ArialMT, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">www.telemarkkunstnersenter.no</span></span></a></span></span></span></div>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-32851475330765356872011-10-23T05:38:00.000-07:002011-10-23T05:38:40.237-07:00Clockwork Lime<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXubTtDKXfwZEbR9812VX3pIUzkVY5BSMbxTI04Hl56T7SpPG47aJLUTNzi-TkGSisbO0OYVySLTbA2nxtB3MfHrHnFeESA4eb6SqjZG5z-aQTx-_qpOVMC6zGKbYd8KmdMgRf8u3fys/s1600/Time+Loop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXubTtDKXfwZEbR9812VX3pIUzkVY5BSMbxTI04Hl56T7SpPG47aJLUTNzi-TkGSisbO0OYVySLTbA2nxtB3MfHrHnFeESA4eb6SqjZG5z-aQTx-_qpOVMC6zGKbYd8KmdMgRf8u3fys/s400/Time+Loop.jpg" width="311" /></a></div>Yesterday I finished this painting, <b>Time Loop</b>, whose <a href="http://forsider.blogspot.com/2011/09/time-loop.html">inspiration and digital sketch</a> was posted last month in this blog.<br />
The time loop is an idea that is bandied about occasionally, but perhaps I should clarify my idea of it. Rather than being a literal loop, (such as a bit of spliced-in film, which repeats itself unchangingly), the time loops I'm thinking of are perhaps more like orbits of planets. Though conditions are largely the same now, when the cycle is entering a phase of concurrence, the universe is nonetheless altered slightly. Events have deja vu, but they are not precise reenactments of history. History doesn't repeat itself to the letter. Rather than Clockwork Orange, now it's Clockwork Lime.<br />
The era is again dystopian, with violence, disposession and revolution flaring up in ways that lead pundits grasping at straws. Yet in this iteration the protagonists are not Burgess' charismatic hoodlums, but rather hooded rioters, seeking anonymity.<br />
Arab Spring... UK Riots...Occupy Wall Street... What will the next chapter be?<br />
<a name='more'></a>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-83304659805581661002011-10-16T06:20:00.000-07:002011-10-16T06:20:22.747-07:00Mansonia Map<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLmhNc6HfrGM5FKn6HqAPzHHUUHvbzMUXxMdACn-YT5H_noHyo0ILuylI4hB3rFatXwtIvukgLqARbPKgMJuARrbSwMjrboL8mUYKm5y3M-Ui0CQ_La1O1dHAOVTpZK8fdfTNPepCUHck/s1600/DSC05857.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLmhNc6HfrGM5FKn6HqAPzHHUUHvbzMUXxMdACn-YT5H_noHyo0ILuylI4hB3rFatXwtIvukgLqARbPKgMJuARrbSwMjrboL8mUYKm5y3M-Ui0CQ_La1O1dHAOVTpZK8fdfTNPepCUHck/s640/DSC05857.jpg" width="491" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This souvenir map is your official guide to a famous but neglected landscape. Blue Ribbon Comities have bulldozed some areas, but there were simply too many pavilions to wipe away entirely. Quite a number still stand today, rusted and neglected though they now are.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The beauty of maps is that they make sense; their web of streets all link together. All roads lead to Rome, or in the case of the <b>Mansonia Map</b>, all roads link to Manson. Charles Manson is the dark symbol incarnate of the most fulminating decade, the 1960s. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Conspiratologists are able to find countless unsettling connections to Manson. One reason for this is that many of his associates sought to distance themselves from him after the events of 1969. This lead to increased mystery and conspiracy, much in the same way that the flawed and whitewashed Warren Commission has not quelled, but increased speculation regarding the JFK assassination. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Indeed, Manson now shares a tangential association with the rogues gallery of institutions that crop up when one examines both the JFK and RFK assassinations: The CIA's MKULTRA mind control program, LSD research, Bay of Pigs wet-workers, The Mob, etc. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">How far can we examine this dark footprint? Is it only a historical artifact, or does it show a legacy that extends to our current times?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The chief literary sources of inspiration for <b>Mansonia Map</b> are Adam Gorightly's <i><b>Shadow over Santa Susana</b></i> and Russ Baker's <i><b>Family of Secrets</b></i> (about the Bush Dynasty.) A visual source of inspiration is the map of the 1964/65 Worlds Fair.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/xioCGmZVoqw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Manson Sings</div>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-69891337810213796232011-10-09T13:39:00.000-07:002011-10-09T13:39:08.547-07:00Protesters<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlTNLKbeTMHlBctPxfvthj9Xt2li_KsmT3qgGias60S3tFQpyzhLyaso4LDkjrNUezB7JSKM6dcgbPUrTGA-NDCuj18N95GDT55DheRisBD6kTFzbcoYyhnxDcZBrOjbs53ctATWxUA5U/s1600/IMG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlTNLKbeTMHlBctPxfvthj9Xt2li_KsmT3qgGias60S3tFQpyzhLyaso4LDkjrNUezB7JSKM6dcgbPUrTGA-NDCuj18N95GDT55DheRisBD6kTFzbcoYyhnxDcZBrOjbs53ctATWxUA5U/s400/IMG.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The cover this cartoon falls under should probably be The Old New Yorker. Though the event that inspired it (<a href="http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/10/01/police-arresting-protesters-on-brooklyn-bridge/">Cops arresting 700</a> on the B'klyn Bridge) is recent, some of the characters are old: the bridge itself, and the wordplay among them. I'll post it on my new blog too,<a href="http://romanscomics.blogspot.com/"> Roman's Comics.</a></div>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-86659937707659678942011-10-01T10:19:00.000-07:002011-10-01T10:22:25.092-07:00Powwow one-off<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbhvOcXwFjzSAAb9yC9NNr0eiv5UJBIcLHQXlKpjBt1SwKRj4u8tduBx7sRh-JkV0RZfWJ5YT88YKQumasFpnSp9hf1HqhYnG8sPpMldO3Hees70coZoee_ILaTb3X3ug4lcpJ1RLfmkw/s1600/Powwow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbhvOcXwFjzSAAb9yC9NNr0eiv5UJBIcLHQXlKpjBt1SwKRj4u8tduBx7sRh-JkV0RZfWJ5YT88YKQumasFpnSp9hf1HqhYnG8sPpMldO3Hees70coZoee_ILaTb3X3ug4lcpJ1RLfmkw/s640/Powwow.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVrjoFTxLkdcmKmMb-Jq2Rgf1w-6JgMH1EJxEXlEQufrX_3woZhwCPrADsgwA96Di_oRuPt-me3cHjP7vnoys7qWqZP7Z-odwjlaoLxg97b4Q4xXEJmHC23g_74b9FOL0wGYPOD6T8tM/s1600/eerie-comics-1-thumb-600x834-37277.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVrjoFTxLkdcmKmMb-Jq2Rgf1w-6JgMH1EJxEXlEQufrX_3woZhwCPrADsgwA96Di_oRuPt-me3cHjP7vnoys7qWqZP7Z-odwjlaoLxg97b4Q4xXEJmHC23g_74b9FOL0wGYPOD6T8tM/s400/eerie-comics-1-thumb-600x834-37277.jpg" width="287" /></a>This is the finished painting for the sketch I posted May 16, where I also described its inspiration. I thought it applicable to show now because it reminds me of a product by Myron Fass, great genius publisher--and eccentric shock-jock bordering the edges of sanity. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiDnWil-0LgTBF_Pr4EQiRQGCkWFPduzESAC-PanUP32nItEKrdT03W9Cml1FUjrtw2OKWlTMhVR1PU0YE05Rf-oqqp0mBZK1k6JzxieTbFxoT5zVwRTQMMkWXBuBUAyawLMhHiQa4oN8/s1600/weired-eerie_.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiDnWil-0LgTBF_Pr4EQiRQGCkWFPduzESAC-PanUP32nItEKrdT03W9Cml1FUjrtw2OKWlTMhVR1PU0YE05Rf-oqqp0mBZK1k6JzxieTbFxoT5zVwRTQMMkWXBuBUAyawLMhHiQa4oN8/s320/weired-eerie_.png" width="243" /></a> Fass was a compelling personality well described in the most recent book I have read, Mike Howlett's beautifully illustrated <a href="http://www.tcj.com/reviews/the-weird-world-of-eerie-publications/"><i>The Weird World of Eerie Publications</i>.</a> <br />
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<i><b>Powwow Culture </b></i>recalls the type of publication that Fass' organization specialized in: the one-off. Appealing to and exploiting the public's crazes was what he was especially good at, printing magazines about JFK or Elvis (or sharks during the JAWS era.) In my alternate universe, the celebrity LaFontain is the one to celebrate. </div><br />
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My <i><b>Forsider</b></i> paintings in this exhibition are one-offs. They are also OOAKs (isn't that the acronym they use on Ebay for One-Of-A-Kind?) They fall well short of Fass' parameter of success, sales of at least 20,000 units.romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-62160074461999655942011-09-20T12:50:00.000-07:002011-09-20T12:50:04.054-07:00Obitulog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4JD13Sop9l-RXAdRcoTP19vy8FMNUe-wKkJHm0cjHaitQeYIc3s_yZerk8N2lx40qFkqH8AudClP-vGN5eAaeiTuBbrhZbXnNTctK6KI53dJDXkscKCIJqEWd1pF-trFO0y239pJMBPE/s1600/DSC05784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4JD13Sop9l-RXAdRcoTP19vy8FMNUe-wKkJHm0cjHaitQeYIc3s_yZerk8N2lx40qFkqH8AudClP-vGN5eAaeiTuBbrhZbXnNTctK6KI53dJDXkscKCIJqEWd1pF-trFO0y239pJMBPE/s640/DSC05784.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>Phew--I think it's finished! (See the Sept. 4 post to see how the thing began, and the inspiration.)<br />
It's also an illustration for my other blog, <a href="http://obitulog.blogspot.com/">obitulog</a><br />
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I was recently reading about the contemporary philosopher, <a href="http://www.philosophyblog.com.au/what-is-the-good-life-theories-of-prudence-and-self-interest/">Derek Parfit</a>, who claims not to be able to save images of his past, and hence rarely thinks of it. Perhaps he is able to work on moral philosophy because is he less burdened by his own identity and subjectivism. Such is not my case; my identity is hyper-subjective, full of associations. My past plays in my mind like a projector supplied with an endless, infinitely large reel of images.<br />
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I've used many sources as references to paint these faces. They are not so much painted as engraved, scraped through paint. Am I one who <i>bows before the graven image?</i> Heck, I'm a far worse <i>idolator </i>than that--I <i><b>engrave</b></i> the things! In this painting you may recognize some of the faces: stars, starlets, rogues, heroes, prophets, and prophets of doom. They, and thousands of others, are engraved in the sequence that makes up my sliding puzzle of mental tiles.romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-44535284891157402702011-09-16T13:30:00.000-07:002011-09-16T13:30:38.755-07:00Chameleofile<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2JrJFQDdlVdmALKp8YOPCBaWgkYkguZKmKgKT6rIZqOyPBHj5vVoKkisFUikM2edkrfdl4i_nhyS8i7r-0y2D0ym4LQbt-fmuly2j1GcyObCpltewue2e3FP7gTmKK-4ZztBbtbcNXpM/s1600/DSC05750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2JrJFQDdlVdmALKp8YOPCBaWgkYkguZKmKgKT6rIZqOyPBHj5vVoKkisFUikM2edkrfdl4i_nhyS8i7r-0y2D0ym4LQbt-fmuly2j1GcyObCpltewue2e3FP7gTmKK-4ZztBbtbcNXpM/s400/DSC05750.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>This is a detail of a work in progress. In the laboratory of my studio and my blog, painting ideas come and go. Some reach completion, others don't, and the verdict is still out on this one.<br />
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I hope I can pull it off. Were I given the resources, I feel that I could edit and publish a real-life magazine of the same name (chameleon-lover, and a file on chameleons, the animal that is little understood.<br />
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The mythology of chameleons in the popular culture is that they change colors to suit their environment. This is largely true, but just the beginning of their wonderment. They also change colors to communicate: in order to affect their environment.<br />
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Just as fascinating is their personality--their human-like moods. And their sight is perhaps the keenest ever developed on this planet by any animal. In comparison to them, poor humans are as blind as dogs. Sharp-sighted hawks or cats? Poor souls are they, nearly holding white canes in comparison to the chameleon, who sees colors vividly, as well as the outline of a fly, leagues away.<br />
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Fascinating as these attributes are, they are limited subjects if one moves on to philosophical and existential questions that the chameleon opens. They are supposed to be primitive animals; reptiles, are they not? How could it be that they dream? Well, they do--easily seen by their rapid-eye-movements in sleep. As far as I know, other reptiles are not known to dream.<br />
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Their postures and attitudes often seem uncannily human, or hominid. I believe this is an example of parallel evolution. Though humans and chameleons are not related other than in the very distant past<br />
( in the same way that any vertibrate is related), they <i>seem</i> more closely related to us. Their kind took an evolutionary journey that matches our own in two very important parts: (1.) they chose trees as their home, and (2.) they chose sight as their sense.<br />
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Primates took to the trees, needing prehensile hands to grasp branches. Same with chameleons, which have tight-clasping hands and tail. (The ground-dwelling choice, which the likes of baboons and hominids took, is late in the game, a few drops in the bucket of evolutionary time; the bulk of our primate ancestors bid their time in the trees, as most of our cousins still do.)<br />
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Our brains and attitudes are due to sight being our sense. Some estimates put it that 80% of our sensory stimulus is visual. For chameleons it must be at least that; they are, in fact, deaf, without ears. (They can, however feel vibrations, and even make vibrations to communicate through the jungle telegraph of tree branches.) Chameleons have stereoscopic vision, like us (and unlike all other reptiles, and most mammals.) Because they are so sight-oriented, they appear hyper-aware and nervous, always vigilant. They are very different from a lethargic snake, for instance. It is uncanny when they look at you directly with both eyes, which work a dissonance on your mind.<br />
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Just think about life on other planets. We are finding new Goldilocks planets every day, in regions of space remote, but not hideously far across the cosmos. Imagine encountering extraterrestrials that also chose the twin paths of trees and sight early in their evolution. Which type would be the one that reached for technology first: <b><i>the reptilian one or the hairy one</i></b>?romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-83180434875207450292011-09-12T13:02:00.000-07:002011-09-12T13:02:34.023-07:00Outfolding<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-h3w1t-_2wDrYBiYY7t7RRJYP737rm_taRmcFyCYr-ZXddPltUGFHsNfZDSXg5q8cyMf90E-Q6XiAFCJ7HQ3_Z8y1GEZu1ieAKJkiH-bBFpcFguk5dQJhNlVzN7loyxNnYaF4Z9TjRm4/s1600/DSC05751.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-h3w1t-_2wDrYBiYY7t7RRJYP737rm_taRmcFyCYr-ZXddPltUGFHsNfZDSXg5q8cyMf90E-Q6XiAFCJ7HQ3_Z8y1GEZu1ieAKJkiH-bBFpcFguk5dQJhNlVzN7loyxNnYaF4Z9TjRm4/s640/DSC05751.jpg" width="488" /></a></div><br />
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Here's my logo painting for the exhibition, which I began some months ago.<br />
It may be finished--but I never know before it is actually out of the studio.<br />
It shows a mixing of old and new signs, old and new methods of communicating, surfaces and images vying for attention, especially the case now on the web.<br />
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I've always had the feeling of being buried under papers. Sometimes I can keep them under control within files, but more often than not they pile up. I tend to collect all to many things, both in my memory and in my studio!romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-81133901980353776402011-09-09T13:20:00.000-07:002011-09-09T13:20:44.807-07:00Time Loop<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaNnk1Krr0sU5tXHky0hCzi3EGTKwMcZUSMym3Qv1AsuoTAr1CE9GAcq2m_1ZP4to1DRlHUjARR7QbVMc5JzdjbBrY5-a4owxEhgWvO_e53GivkcCPlozh6YUZxHHCSXvnSJTJwE5YHKU/s1600/time+loop+w+text.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaNnk1Krr0sU5tXHky0hCzi3EGTKwMcZUSMym3Qv1AsuoTAr1CE9GAcq2m_1ZP4to1DRlHUjARR7QbVMc5JzdjbBrY5-a4owxEhgWvO_e53GivkcCPlozh6YUZxHHCSXvnSJTJwE5YHKU/s1600/time+loop+w+text.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">'Been listening to archived broadcasts of <i>CBS Mystery Theatre</i>, the last great radio play program in the US, running through the '70s. The show was broadcast late in the evening, and I remember originally listening to it with my grandparents in their camper on the Wyoming prairie, in places that felt very far from civilization--so far, not one light made by man could be seen, only the millions of stars from galaxies very close overhead in the high desert sky.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Many of the archived episodes were taped with the commercials and news issued by various affiliate stations, so you get a real time capsule of what was happening in the early to mid 1970s. The program is often eerie, but perhaps eerier is the feeling that I am in a time loop, many of the events mirroring what the world is feeling now. High oil prices, political scandals, wars, economic hardship, record prices for gold--even a debt ceiling debate.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A few years later, in high school, most nerd or geek kids had read Anthony Burgess' A Clockwork Orange. We may have even tried out some of the Russian-Cockney slang that Burgess had constructed for the future. The book was a <i>horrorshow</i> introduction to dystopia.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The future has come. Rather than cod pieces and bowlers, the protagonists sport<i> hoodies</i>, or burka-like hankies. In this data-sketch I superimposed the iconic image of Stanley Kubrick's sauntering thugs over a backdrop of London burning and hooded rioters. The lettering of the title is inspired by the film's opening milk bar scene, which featured fluid signage of the same feel.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-70475509372802041652011-09-04T10:05:00.000-07:002011-09-04T10:05:29.199-07:00Obitulog, a work in progress<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZap6-KK_u-dY_jgfyloedv7yL3QweWnwQqqBI2AsAbAKnMcX9io8-WqXwusd6T7jWV6lJnRnzUa72i7G1EHv9KiYbhRYR3R501gz91tNMiR5AAFJzGdsOCWcg1GoEcRIbexxnaY46TI4/s1600/puzzle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZap6-KK_u-dY_jgfyloedv7yL3QweWnwQqqBI2AsAbAKnMcX9io8-WqXwusd6T7jWV6lJnRnzUa72i7G1EHv9KiYbhRYR3R501gz91tNMiR5AAFJzGdsOCWcg1GoEcRIbexxnaY46TI4/s400/puzzle.jpg" width="297" /></a></div>I'm painting a cover not only for a new entry, but for a new blog, called Obitulog, <a href="http://obitulog.blogspot.com/">http://obitulog.blogspot.com/</a><br />
(Can you believe it, yet another splinter?)<br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It would seem that much of what comprises the substance of one's mind is the accumulation of memories. These memories are the building blocks of associations. In the age of wiki and google we are free to find out quickly about the status of people or things that slide around on the tiles of our mind. (<i><b>I wonder if that guy's still alive?</b></i> is the header question of the blog.)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> Both memory and associations are dynamic; every time you revisit a memory you are likely to alter it slightly, or shift its placement, so that it occupies a slightly new place in the giant mosaic of shifting tiles that make up the mind. Some of these fall away, never to be found, while others become glued in place, firmly fixed, requiring other bits to slide around them.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This painting is inspired by sliding puzzles, the type with one space free, but filled with a matrix of tiles that support each other, sometimes barely. Unlike the mind, the image lies on the surface. Yet sequence is important--perhaps more important than time itself. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The question now is: <i>what will this sliding mosaic of tiles have as their image?</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-85248019232464609342011-08-30T03:58:00.000-07:002011-08-30T03:58:25.783-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Dy6HoZl1vggSYZ-V41QgVWCb0wYgF_03Yr_KIjbkcjSLo_pcUIPA4wMQzX-hhAGHL2Tw4EzhZu-JPm29TyPz4lxe-mwIDElU90n4VkAfaLceh2n-NpFCpqqp3dUFSgI_NvubldxtSOg/s1600/menn+i+sort.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Dy6HoZl1vggSYZ-V41QgVWCb0wYgF_03Yr_KIjbkcjSLo_pcUIPA4wMQzX-hhAGHL2Tw4EzhZu-JPm29TyPz4lxe-mwIDElU90n4VkAfaLceh2n-NpFCpqqp3dUFSgI_NvubldxtSOg/s400/menn+i+sort.jpg" width="298" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pasty-faced enough? This is the finished painting to the sketch more fully described in 29 June's entry.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Though they are <i>observers</i>, it seems I channeled a kind of seedy, 1930s desperation into their faces. Perhaps their garb got me thinking of <i>time loops</i>, the present times echoing slightly the era of dispossession and economic hardship of that decade.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Note: Here in Norway we see men in black constantly, without even realizing it. The common crosswalk/pedestrian sign is iconic, the silhouetted figure cemented firm in the classic default hat and suit.</div><br />
romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-64802764633322165152011-08-05T14:59:00.000-07:002011-08-06T03:27:17.243-07:00Bubble Rubble<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhBko76OtafCxVaMa6uO6WuyVcu309du0JH8MJxKitoaqpRvpj1-0NK7nWWNOBrOGTiaU2MoXkjoU_NZFmHtFDygaQV83ea6zB2LNtvzG7niVt_UW8D5EvpI4-wEJK_k6cWKNCMfthbfU/s1600/bubble+title.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhBko76OtafCxVaMa6uO6WuyVcu309du0JH8MJxKitoaqpRvpj1-0NK7nWWNOBrOGTiaU2MoXkjoU_NZFmHtFDygaQV83ea6zB2LNtvzG7niVt_UW8D5EvpI4-wEJK_k6cWKNCMfthbfU/s640/bubble+title.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What's the rubble of a bubble? I was reading in a fossil book about the earliest fossils of animals way back, 600 million years or further. There's a few jellyfish, but they're rare. Because they are basically a bubble of jelly, they don't have much structure to leave an impression.</div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR7pxllW69wRGQPKVve7WDQuMAUy0-K14H5ruUBquxWwO6xWBHDB5BN-gmab1KxnaKE3kx7M9piCmY1zs4OBUGu9O34L5FnsgP87qNpKswcdTui_YotPrT8iSDUyTsQ3keE6cDiYFptRU/s1600/DSC05727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR7pxllW69wRGQPKVve7WDQuMAUy0-K14H5ruUBquxWwO6xWBHDB5BN-gmab1KxnaKE3kx7M9piCmY1zs4OBUGu9O34L5FnsgP87qNpKswcdTui_YotPrT8iSDUyTsQ3keE6cDiYFptRU/s400/DSC05727.jpg" width="306" /></a>Bubbles have always been around, but they seem to be in the air lately. Eli Pariser's book, <a href="http://www.thefilterbubble.com/">The Filter Bubble</a>, argues that each of us may have our own separate internet. Our profile dictates what we are offered.<br />
This extended bust cycle in the economy, which just lurches on endlessly from one crisis to the next, makes me think of the great granddaddy of bubbles, the Tulip Bubble, which wracked Holland and the financial markets back in the 1600s.<br />
<br />
The bubble seems so soft and etherial, just a little nothing. That's why it's such a good metaphor for insidious events or tendencies. The winds blow good fortune to some, but very many are left in poor straights as a result of these bursting bubbles.<br />
<br />
Some insulate themselves within social networks that have an echo-chamber effect. Yes, there is great diversity and democracy on the web, much more than the days of magazines and newspapers. But the colorful, skillfully designed covers are no longer displayed on a dated shelf for us to buy. Gone also is the record album cover, an even more glorious format, displayed for our vote. (We put our money where our mouth was.) Our patronage provided livelihood to the artists.<br />
<br />
Now we read a tailor-made mix that suits our taste, so specific that we know what it is before we see it. Apps clean up content for us. (Heavens, don't commission an illustration- just slap on a free thumbnail. The audience won't care, nor will they see it, on their diminutive smartphone screens.) We are tiny choirs finding just the right preacher. And some preachers can be very happy with their choir; they may invent it and select it from within their own bubble. They may be so convinced of their worth, they publish a long manifesto, spread over the web.<br />
<br />
Regarding the font of <i>Bubble Rubble</i>, I was inspired by a magazine from 1969, which was celebrating the impending Moon Landing. The font was evocative of an age soon to come: <i>the future</i>. It was at once technical and soft- bubbly even. Amid the rubble of the space shuttle program and the austere courses nations have set themselves on, this optimism seems increasingly distant.romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-21661167165860478372011-07-27T13:26:00.000-07:002011-07-27T14:29:40.466-07:00Coney Island Pavilion<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVuQNj_o40qpxu1Mr-wJ9aBA_q8pzOOhK1jVZjjGVjxoBlaIBch48aUKbZhikSav0WRIl1Ry0VjtyVkOdwzikuZaBqiDy47QHbi4Gw-hKDWtTimrDUuNcopitciTnE2PKlubPSakCVnTk/s1600/kookoo.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 177px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVuQNj_o40qpxu1Mr-wJ9aBA_q8pzOOhK1jVZjjGVjxoBlaIBch48aUKbZhikSav0WRIl1Ry0VjtyVkOdwzikuZaBqiDy47QHbi4Gw-hKDWtTimrDUuNcopitciTnE2PKlubPSakCVnTk/s400/kookoo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634131244579669138" /></a>This sketch painting is the result of my morgtage of sideshow performers discussed a few posts ago (Coney Island Interlude.) Schlitzy and Kookoo, perhaps the two most famous performers, stroll or cavort on Coney Island Beach between their shifts.<div>The Elephant Hotel can still be seen not far from Atlantic City, at Margate. Named <a href="http://everywheremag.com/places/4291">Lucie</a>, she is approximately half the size of the hotel that stood on Coney Island, though she is in fact a bit older, a trial run for the larger building.</div><div>Though the Cyclone roller-coaster is still standing and working (I had a bit of popping neck bone or gristle that rattled me for about a decade after my last phenomenal ride on it), the pictured coaster is the storied Thunderbolt, razed a decade ago during some dark dealings with the city string-pullers. The parachute tower still stands, a mysterious relic that I think is from an ancient world's fair.</div><div>The magazine cover I will paint, for which this is a sketch, will be called Pavilion, speaking of world fairs. I like the word pavilion, just the sound of it. It sounds foreign, in that way, a 100 years ago, when such words had an exotic significance. Pavilions were important; they were architecture that had a point to make, but which didn't have to endure for a long time. They were low budget, yet grand--grander than a regular building with solid foundation and purpose, whose practical reason overrode fancy.</div><div>So it was for Coney Island, an island of Pavilions. Very few stand now. But on a certain psychic wavelength, you can see them and hear them; this inspired the painting. Pattern-seeking creature that I am, I am fond of connections. And connections weave densely during the twilight at Coney Island, a web denser than the lattice comprising a rusting roller-coaster. </div><div>Coney Island, as architect Rem Koolhaas notes, was the proving ground for Manhattan; the skyscrapers were built there first, being low budget pavilions, to be razed and burnt. This place gave us the idea of the modern city, but few think of the tawdry wasteland as such an important place now.</div><div>The island had several different parks, one of which was named Luna Park, eponymous for amusement parks in many languages today. Again, few remember this original park. </div><div>Before there was Disneyland and world, there was Coney Island as the park of wonder.</div><div>Disney sanitized Coney Island's original, loucher wonder.</div><div><br /></div><div>The mysterious mascot of Coney Island was the idiotic face, later used as the trademark of Mad Magazine, Alfred E. Newman. The genius behind Mad Magazine was Harvey Kurtzman. He employed John Cleese and Terry Gilliam later on (working on a fumetti spread, cartoons made with photos), and this connection would later result in Monty Python.</div><div><br /></div><div>When we see freakish things on Youtube, watch satire, or questionable goings-on on reality TV, do we not owe something to the original freaks and visionaries of Coney Island?</div>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-16616092652830986992011-07-26T06:25:00.001-07:002011-07-26T08:50:10.575-07:00Graphopolis<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhfXMRe-JHhRBDhjrlMeE_MBXA9HZXfhm3_dSUG5oeCt5D8pZ7ckAPEHRy3OmjqaOf6bxFJDnfwEHJ_YrxXfpUd6lxXVXQbsFXxUSYU0iHu-1rxhx1vEBnnmL9b0crRK4t2sX-TCl3cwI/s1600/TheNewLittles.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 331px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhfXMRe-JHhRBDhjrlMeE_MBXA9HZXfhm3_dSUG5oeCt5D8pZ7ckAPEHRy3OmjqaOf6bxFJDnfwEHJ_YrxXfpUd6lxXVXQbsFXxUSYU0iHu-1rxhx1vEBnnmL9b0crRK4t2sX-TCl3cwI/s400/TheNewLittles.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633653150527287106" /></a>Here is my map of New York City showing the New Littles, the neighborhoods that are made of at least a 20 percent population from a specific country. The famous Little Italy of film fame no longer exists where it did in Lower Manhattan, but you will see that there are a great many neighborhoods in greater NY that still are Italian. <div>This project was a challenge made by the <a href="http://www.wnyc.org/shows/bl/blogs/scrapbook/2011/jul/19/new-littles-artist-maps/">Brian Lehrer show</a> last month, which featured analysis of the modern demographics of the city. I used an interactive map, furnished by the show, to gather the information I needed.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiStiXFSeytnpeHl1VP6_dhBW9d__4jpFVEvRYrXuBiRL-VntCcsn-NpRYzMTK7CZeS78s4BajxK-ZQwTQ4lcSCo8a72kSNLMnhtEofHLN1y7qQ8-g9LsrYw-K50WPv1effodkhEWnUuqg/s1600/graphopolis.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a></div>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-7065468134323839192011-07-17T01:30:00.001-07:002011-08-06T03:48:32.045-07:00Wrecked Goods<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKaIz3lp2UN6CAJ6YrW9xWgX9qQvpCf5C_pWkCiClHSiTsG0ujhBfA0-iPkWgA98NVJhkRkI4tfNr3l_kdx3_80p6B9SYgIvaEM66IK1lcu5thLsi9dATIydVGWUTSu-Psaf2EbPPbME/s1600/debris.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630236003701758146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKaIz3lp2UN6CAJ6YrW9xWgX9qQvpCf5C_pWkCiClHSiTsG0ujhBfA0-iPkWgA98NVJhkRkI4tfNr3l_kdx3_80p6B9SYgIvaEM66IK1lcu5thLsi9dATIydVGWUTSu-Psaf2EbPPbME/s400/debris.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 145px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a> <br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This new painting is titled Vrakgods, which translates as <i>debris</i>. Less correctly translated, but more interesting, would be <i>wrecked goods</i>.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This would be an example of a personal style of translation, which I coin as etymologocentricism (safe to say this won't become a standard word any time soon!) Such a translator chooses more directly related words, grasping for the cognates or parallels in languages of the same family, sometimes at the expense of clearest meaning, but gaining something else.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Wrecked goods, or debris, has always fascinated me, whether it's found on a lonely beach, forgotten wharf, or high-desert prairie. In the case of this painting old cars lie to rust very slowly in the dry plains outside Laramie, Wyoming. Makes from different decades rest together in a diversity that will slowly become less clear to the viewer, as time removes stylistic distinction. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The background shows the erosion and geology of a basin that once lay under a giant, shallow sea. This is a fossil hunter's paradise—the first excavation of a Tyranosaurus Rex took place there. These cars could be thought of as types of fossils too.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Wrecked goods (debris and fossils) are startling! These objects sit, revealed, before our eyes, feasting with whatever associations we like, independent of the original context wherein these things were created. In a museum, where a fossil skeleton stands, we don't see the surrounding stone, the layering and conditions that took place over millions of years. The sequence or order of history may be wiped away, but the objects like to startle us, resting as they do in the fresh light of our new eyes.</div>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-79259173062490030592011-07-09T11:56:00.000-07:002011-07-09T12:30:01.953-07:00Coney Island Interlude<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxIpNwDMyvpganXSNJPQIhv-TndizGrWocbthKAGaRCidib4hSqgNBisS9CVQnu48354Jpn3_dFbQ25c-cbWVIObJ9rj3uvQKG3zkXf88esQ5icJpfDG-OGUSlb1h1YPCQ503O478oTzM/s1600/freaks.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 379px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxIpNwDMyvpganXSNJPQIhv-TndizGrWocbthKAGaRCidib4hSqgNBisS9CVQnu48354Jpn3_dFbQ25c-cbWVIObJ9rj3uvQKG3zkXf88esQ5icJpfDG-OGUSlb1h1YPCQ503O478oTzM/s400/freaks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627429131029743922" /></a> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">(<i>morgtage</i> or sketch for forsider painting, which may be titled <b>Coney Island Interlude</b>.)</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in">One of the best midnight movies must be David Lynch's <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qrl3n2ZtK2E">Eraser Head</a></i>. Just hearing the title will summon up in your mind a special mood. Plot? It certainly has one, but the mood is what the film is about. Mood is what you first recall about great films, as you do with dreams.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Todd Browning's <i>Freaks</i> is the other legendary midnight movie. Eraser Head's mood is a dense fog of night, the deep sound of a boiler room's hum. <i>Freaks</i>' mood is more attenuated, a shrill garbled whistle on a scratchy 78 rpm disc. But it's a film I would sooner see.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I first became acquainted with <i>Freaks</i> from an uncanny still in a book about horror movies, a prized possession I got in the early '70s. This book stated that the film was banned. Browning, director of the iconic <i>Dracula</i> of Bela Lagosi, had not used makeup or special effects in Freaks, you see. He had used nature, actual sideshow performers of the 1930s era. The audiences of the day were disturbed by this—as they are today, 80 years later.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">A week or two ago a seed for a painting was planted in my head as I mused about Coney Island, after seeing a good montage <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZfWhu9YuCU&feature=related">movie</a> made from clips housed at <a href="http://www.archive.org/">archive.org</a>, the public domain's modern Alexandria. I recognized some of the performers from Freaks, still in their prime on Coney Island in the 1940s. I was just blown away by the place, marveling at what once was, as compared to what remains in Coney Island today. It is still one of my favorite places, but it's just a husk of what was.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I decided to make a montage, a reference sheet for my painting. I call these <i>morgtages</i> (yes, looks like a nice typo related to the housing crisis, but it's morgue + montage.) I paste together a multitude of references of a subject, gleaned from the net. In the old days illustrators had a file cabinet called a <i>morgue</i>, wherein they kept their references. Now our references are found over the internet.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">While gathering these references I was amazed to find that several of the side show performers have incurred a great cult following. In some cases whole websites are devoted to them. Perhaps the most popular is Schlitzy. Masterful underground cartoonist Bill Griffith's flagship character, Zippy the Pinhead, counts Schlitzy as an inspiration.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">My forsider painting will be called Interlude. I imagine Coney Island in the evening, an amalgam of what is there today, and what was—including the elephant hotel. In the foreground a trio of sideshow performers stroll on the beach, taking a break. It is a quiet scene, contradicting the riotous, humorous and disturbing associations the characters and place summon up in our minds.</p>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-57770203501543209002011-06-29T01:48:00.000-07:002011-06-29T02:38:12.791-07:00Menn in Black sketch<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3S1obkv9QKxLF48SeoWyLYgNtRDZnNfxJRMo61_PZQCbh3gYKPyEZWecGV3_vUpFtWK8EqjNjGh36jU1iUqbPIpMhlLip2AObXqFM9Ri0a4hF340yUVMnPQIQJmFdByrsnIzkrF6m6UA/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-06-29+at+11.25.18+AM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsXYkD-WKUsk3Z-PTXF7tI2HUv-weEq_N_8yi6bCWBjGZs-3RWgp4nvMkoodsGvoZ1GpYyQuloDFjaiy5wVp_MdJZT364-6DAtv_ijVccALVOcuCTOsG1rdu2dOMVs7kr_3qd7B3VFGZs/s1600/menn+sketch.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsXYkD-WKUsk3Z-PTXF7tI2HUv-weEq_N_8yi6bCWBjGZs-3RWgp4nvMkoodsGvoZ1GpYyQuloDFjaiy5wVp_MdJZT364-6DAtv_ijVccALVOcuCTOsG1rdu2dOMVs7kr_3qd7B3VFGZs/s400/menn+sketch.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623561360224222386" /></a> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Recently I heard <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHev5P8m9Gk&feature=related">Nick Redfern</a>, author behind many speculative books. His most recent is about the <i>Men in Black</i> phenomenon. He explores folkloric paths long before what we associate now, thanks to the MIB franchise of entertaining films. This inspired me to start a new painting.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o2f8DUa4xx4&feature=related">The Observers</a></span></b> </i> of <i>Fringe</i> seem to be more on target with what the Men in Black have traditionally been through the decades, before the entertaining movie franchise. </p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">What type of phantoms are they? Benevolent, malevolent, or something in between? The same questions could be asked about another man in black, <i>Bigfoot</i>. I will probably put him in the picture, toward the background.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I wanted some remove from the movie trademark, so I thought it might work to title it<i> Menn i sor</i>t, the Norwegian variant. What happens when these shadowy figures poke around in a deciduous Norwegian wood? Can this happen here, where the wavelengths are a bit more prosaic and flat-footed? I got a flat-footed posture from a photo of the enigmatic <a href="http://www.terminartors.com/artistprofile/Gilbert_and_George">Gilbert and George</a> duo. (English, rather than Norwegian.)</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Men in Black dress the way they do, allegedly, because they need to be generic, able to visit regardless of a period of time. Though their fedoras are unusual, their suits still blend in, a default clothing style that appears to be timeless, though formal.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3S1obkv9QKxLF48SeoWyLYgNtRDZnNfxJRMo61_PZQCbh3gYKPyEZWecGV3_vUpFtWK8EqjNjGh36jU1iUqbPIpMhlLip2AObXqFM9Ri0a4hF340yUVMnPQIQJmFdByrsnIzkrF6m6UA/s400/Screen+shot+2011-06-29+at+11.25.18+AM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623570892506239522" style="float: left; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; cursor: pointer; width: 308px; height: 400px; " /></span></i></p><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><i>A side note about the fedoras: I read with mirth that hipsters are supposed to be wearing them now. Perhaps they will become fashionable again, gaining a critical mass. Oddly, current fashion authorities are unaware, or fail to note, that such hats were quite popular among the hipsters in NY only 20 years ago. At that time there were still many original fedoras to be found in used bins. It seems now that they are manufactured in the current century, and of a different cut, with a more compact, Elvis Costellian brim.</i></span></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><i><br /></i></span></span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><i>Black Bart, Highwayman and doggerel poet of old California, sported a more compact brim, in the form of a bowler. If modern hipsters want compact brims, should they try bowlers?</i></span></span></i></div>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-85497070184866255182011-06-29T01:10:00.000-07:002011-06-29T01:45:23.225-07:00Old New Yorker<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKaKn_SWktCoOT0-ym6t1gRE8VxsJ9-27r_6rZAEna_qVaU_p9Yhbyjyjj-qmvr6SuzEyWt5D0wgJXISCU7i64ydHA4jenz_bTmuVBuMR1QHmrYUYJwxWLt88JtEcE9SOtp2TW7NvrTUw/s1600/oldnew+yorker.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 314px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKaKn_SWktCoOT0-ym6t1gRE8VxsJ9-27r_6rZAEna_qVaU_p9Yhbyjyjj-qmvr6SuzEyWt5D0wgJXISCU7i64ydHA4jenz_bTmuVBuMR1QHmrYUYJwxWLt88JtEcE9SOtp2TW7NvrTUw/s400/oldnew+yorker.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623551913078182610" /></a> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">This is a take off of the New Yorker magazine. Living as I do in Europe, I don't take it for granted that the publication is universally known. The wonderful thing about the New Yorker is that it still exists; every week it still comes out, full of long, rambling articles, <i>illustrations</i>, and cartoons. In this bleak media landscape, it surprising that something so good could still be; why shouldn't it be sleeping in the same crypt with all the other hundreds of beautiful magazines? The mag is a gem, the last of its kind.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Now, on to The Old New Yorker. The motif is taken from a neon sign, I think about E. 60<sup>th</sup> Street. The sign itself is worth everything, but I have some fond associations of the bar inside, which was a student hangout for Hunter College, some blocks up. Back in those days it was famous for selling draws, frosty mugs of draft beer costing only a dollar. Some years ago I popped in there to revisit and found it had changed typically for the worse, offering instead a grim array of expensive, bottled swill. All charm and goodness was gone—except for the sign on the facade.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">No wonder it was featured in Mad Men. (if for a brief instant.) This series has an astonishing attention to detail, evoking the recent past. Rather than slapping some sceneographic sign up, they used the real McCoy, showing The Village Inn's reflections in a taxi. The curved glass of the taxi's window, passing slowly beneath the sign, caused the neon reds and oranges to undulate. This perfectly fits with the era and atmosphere that the series evokes. NY is the city that always changes, I know, but I like it when some little perfect thing can survive, just by chance.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5776109328219104845.post-42070765592882449872011-06-13T12:23:00.000-07:002011-06-13T13:03:01.643-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YwUaqRQ7eXHtc_IllrgQuk-yJOBgJ62puuLKzALKVoYE3GA9JI9OFP7MeCyROpeYp822ZsTxnbcbLqYMcvHkMQmcR3G6U0w8kF0yk8cyQJWcTxujWDqCQ_2VmJWWdYlFBGD3FmBAjFI/s1600/fugitimes.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 174px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YwUaqRQ7eXHtc_IllrgQuk-yJOBgJ62puuLKzALKVoYE3GA9JI9OFP7MeCyROpeYp822ZsTxnbcbLqYMcvHkMQmcR3G6U0w8kF0yk8cyQJWcTxujWDqCQ_2VmJWWdYlFBGD3FmBAjFI/s400/fugitimes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617787456604879186" /></a> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">The FugiTimes is the masthead to a broadsheet that can still be found lining the closet shelves of older houses. It is a palimpsest of fugitive events. I just began this painting, a work in progress. How it will end up, no one can tell. What I can tell now is what is moving around in my head at the moment.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I'm thinking of the nature of newspapers, how wonderful they are. But they are a double-edged sword; the events depicted in them rest in the collective imagination only a short time. They flee like the transparent, running colors on a wet canvas. Only a very few artifact-lovers pore over past copies, the journalists and illustrators forgotten by most. I have worked as a freelance illustrator for the NY Times, and the Wall St. Journal. Both were black and white only—and the WSJ, can you believe it, was still fighting last good fight of the the century...<i>the nineteenth century, that is. </i><i><b>The paper didn't even publish photos. </b></i><span style="font-style: normal"><span style="font-weight: normal">Talk about good times for illustrators!</span></span></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">My thoughts often go to the The Old Gray Lady, The New York Times. She is putting up a good fight, and her web product is very good. I'm hoping the recently erected pay wall will take root effectively, allowing her journalists to survive; we need news to be written by journeymen, who check sources—<i><b>and receive a check for their labors!</b></i></p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">You could say news ink flows through my veins. Perhaps regular ink runs through my veins too. I got a chuckle when I was painting the black letters, trying to emulate masthead fonts: suddenly I was visited by the memory of my calligraphy teacher, a purist paleographer and former Trappist monk, who loved to rue the grotesque “progress” of the 19c. During that time the calligraphic arts were thrown out the window, and graphic designers used T-squares to draw letter forms, mutating the nature of pen strokes done by hand, so he thought.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">Being visited by people from my past is a very common thing in the painting studio. Sometimes the room becomes quite full. I am often surprised by extremely fragmentary types, whose names have long run away, but who offer one quote or action that turns up like a small scrap in a bottle, quickly submerged in the roiling waves of memory. I think I will paint some of these on this canvas; it has just begun, and I am showing only the top quadrant.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in">For further reading on newspapers, the best book I can recommend is Matthew Goodman's <b><i><a href="http://newbooksinjournalism.com/2011/03/14/matthew-goodman-“the-sun-and-the-moon-the-remarkable-true-account-of-hoaxers-showmen-dueling-journalists-and-lunar-man-bats-in-nineteenth-century-new-york”-basic-books-2008/">The Sun and the Moon.</a></i></b> This brings the age of the newpaper(early to mid 19c.) alive in a very entertaining way, including a hoax that may be the most successful and educational caper of all time.</p> <p style="margin-bottom: 0in"><br /></p>romanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12176435889205340994noreply@blogger.com0