Perhaps it’s the combination of colors, or the layered brush strokes, or even remembering the spot where I took this quick shot, but for whatever reason, there’s just something about this texture that makes me smile…
Seems like a lot is going on here at the moment, but then October is typically a busy month in Baltimore–lots of festivals, celebrations, weddings, birthdays and this year we can even cheer for BOTH our teams at once.
As the days continue to shorten, I keep sifting through the heaps of unpublished photos generated earlier this year. Here’s just a little something I uncovered earlier this morning:
One sunny morning while exploring, I came across this little fella…
I thought he was pretty charming. What do you think?
It’s no secret that I’ve been traveling quite a bit this year. Earlier in the summer, I took a short trip up to eastern Canada mostly to see a few art exhibits. This past Monday was Canada’s observance of Thanksgiving. And so not surprisingly, my mind has been wandering back north lately…
Wouldn’t it be lovely to get away for a weekend this fall before all trees lose their leaves..
Or perhaps it would be a fun spot to ring in the New Year…
How about you? Been on any nice weekend trips lately, readers?
Similar to a recent entry about sorting through unpublished photos, another theme struck me while sorting… Wood and/or nails..
I don’t know about you, readers, but productivity seems less elusive with some headphones on, tuning out external distractions. Like a lot of people, I switch my working soundtrack around quite a bit, often times relative the current project(s) on my desk–using the music to put me in the right mood for the style of work I’m trying to achieve.
For the last few days, I’ve been listening to the album Ghosts. More often than not these days, I tend to prefer instrumental music–it’s easier to concentrate and plug along while still enjoying the layers of sound.
How about you, dear readers? Do you listen to music while you work? What helps you concentrate while you’re plugging along?
Continuing along the theme of discarded process work, here are few process iterations from my response piece for Spark, series 10
How about you? What do you do with discarded sketches or concept work from creative projects? Do you archive them, or incorporate them into some sort of presentation? Or are they simply casualties of creative process?
Picking up from my recent post about sharing overlooked sketches and process work, below is another installment from the cutting room floor.
These are iterations from work on my response piece for Spark, series 11
Have you heard of Spark? It’s a quarterly collaborative art event that’s been ongoing for several years now. Organized by Amy Souza, participants are given ten days to produce a new piece of creative work (written, musical or artistic in some way) based upon an assigned existing work.
So readers, have you ever participated in Spark or something like it? Do you think you’ll sign up and give it a try next time?
I’ve been doing quite a lot of file organizing and digital “housekeeping” so to speak lately. And aside from the obvious result of tidier hard drives, my memory (no pun intended) has been refreshed with ideas and projects I’d forgotten about. So this evening I’m going to start sharing some of those overlooked pieces and iterations with you, dear readers. Sound good?
How about you? Do you find yourself generating a lot of “process work” that just gets archived and forgotten after you complete a project? What DO you do with old sketches and iterations?
While tidying hard drives and sorting through hundreds of unpublished photos, it’s not unusual to come across themes in the images that have, until then, gone unnoticed. The theme that struck me this weekend? Drips of paint…
During the course of his life, Vincent Van Gogh wrote hundred of letters to his beloved brother, Theo. Lately, I’ve been reading some of their correspondence and came across a letter last night, part of which caught my attention:
“Ah, mon cher frère, quelquefois je sais tellement bien ce que je veux. Je peux bien dans la vie et dans la peinture aussi me passer de bon Dieu mais je ne puis pas, moi souffrant, me passer de quelque chose plus grand que moi qui est ma vie, la puissance de créer.
Et si frustré dans cette puissance physiquement, on cherche à créer des pensées au lieu d’enfants, on est par là bien dans l’humanité pourtant”
“Ah, my dear brother, sometimes I know so clearly what I want. In life and in painting too, I can easily do without the dear Lord, but I can’t, suffering as I do, do without something greater than myself, which is my life, the power to create.
And if frustrated in this power physically, we try to create thoughts instead of children; in that way, we’re part of humanity all the same.”
Interestingly enough, Vincent composed this letter a hundred and twenty-four years ago today…
Regardless of your politics, “change” has become a hot topic in America. Sharing this photo of mine is not meant to be a political statement, however…
When I saw this forgotten phrase above an empty storefront, I couldn’t help but appreciate the contrast of reality and message. Then again the text reads simply “Change…” What sort of change proves more elusive…
A while ago, I was traveling in New Orleans and stopped for brunch. It was a hot sunny day and we ended up in one of the French Quarter‘s hidden courtyards with flowering trees and a jazz trio. After a leisurely meal in the shade, I noticed the scratched walls of the passageways on the way back out into the sun.
As I was taking these photos, I couldn’t help but think of Saul Bass’ end titles for West Side Story.
I will admit I’m not the biggest fan of the movie or production in general, but I really appreciate the beautifully executed titles.
She was a hoot. A smart lady who blazed a trail for women.
Yesterday, Phyllis Diller died.
I did not know her personally or follow her movements too closely, yet when the news of her passing was announced on the radio, I shouted “No!”. I remember her from when I was a kid– her dry delivery and over-the-top look. The fact that she found her way onto Scooby Doo cemented her status as a star in my kid universe.
So long, Phyllis… thanks for the laughs and making it look easy.
Sometimes when I’m visiting Copenhagen for the day, I like to go up to the top of the 17th century observatory called the Rundetårn.
The walk up to the top of the tower is a cobblestone spiral ramp. In the 18th century, Peter the Great rode a horse up to the top while visiting. Toward the end of the 19th century, bicycle races began to be held inside the tower as well.