Uncle John’s Log & Co.

March exercise—day thirty-one— As I finished my morning walk on this final day of what has become the most experimental month of the year for me, I faced a blazing sunrise and could appreciate the logic of peoples who worshiped our nearest star. My feelings transcended the beauty of a cloudless sky and the refreshing air. Perhaps the ritual exercise inevitably falls short of ambitions, but there is no reason not to look at all that I have in my life and be incredibly grateful. My faith, health, optimism, and creative drive have been restored, and that’s really what it’s all about.

Today’s sight bite— Saddlebreds and Angus (is that an ostrich or an emu?) —c-l-i-c-k— a sleek, reliable two-wheeler is the best way I’ve found to experience the Kentucky countryside.

Tomorrow— Springtime…

March exercise—day thirty— Except for some early evening labor in the back yard (our pitiable urban garden), I spent the day pushing forward a commemorative safari illustration. The project will provide a fitting close to my annual exercise.

Today’s sight bite— Fractured brick, chunks of coal, and fragments of clay roofing —c-l-i-c-k— relics of a home’s former incarnation are freed from the dark earth.

Tomorrow— Finish line…

March exercise—day twenty-nine— My uncle Bob kindly emailed me a photo Dan took of how Pete framed with chestnut the picture I created of their old barn, which has since collapsed. Seeing it again raised my spirits. I made that picture during a period of heightened sketchbook activity. During those years I was constantly drawing with pen, but I created very few finished works outside my journal pages. Above the frame is an antique weather vane. I must admit to a selfish desire—seeing the kitchen wall arrangement firsthand. Of course, it will be good to see my Dixon kin, too.

Today’s sight bite— The face of a lady hunter, between the horns of her trophy kudu —c-l-i-c-k— coaxing me back to my drawing board.

Tomorrow— Into the zone…

March exercise—day twenty-eight— At the end of last month, my astonishment at randomly meeting an art student who’d written a paper about my artwork on display at EKU caused me to write on Facebook that the incident blew my mind. Long-time friend Craig S commented that, “Dix has been recovering from a blown mind for 40 years.” Putting all nonsense aside, I’m pleased to have that student, Jonathan R, take the time to email his finished assignment to me. Coming from someone of his demonstrated talent and artistic dedication, I consider it an honor that he selected my work for investigation. There are times when I’m convinced that all one needs to do is follow creative intuition and let the universe take care of the rest.

Today’s sight bite— The plate-steel square at 300 yards —c-l-i-c-k— alarmingly small to the naked eye when positioned above the tip of a rifle’s front sight.

Tomorrow— Final Sunday of the month…

March exercise—day twenty-seven— It’s been a supportive day for my aspirations as a wood engraver. I sold two prints to Dave the collector, and then Gray phoned to let me know that he’s finished the limited edition press run of Manning poems with my block illustration, Boss’s Bucket. I felt a surge of profound satisfaction. Earlier today I asked myself why I tend to study writers for insight into the heart of creative motivation, and the answer came to mind quickly enough to make me feel a bit silly—writers are obviously better than visual artists at verbalizing. Faulkner told an interviewer that “really the writer doesn’t want success, that he knows he has a short span of life, that the day will come when he must pass through the wall of oblivion, and he wants to leave a scratch on that wall—Kilroy was here—that somebody a hundred, a thousand years later will see.” Nabokov wrote that a work of art existed for him “only insofar as it affords me what I shall bluntly call aesthetic bliss, that is a sense of being somehow, somewhere, connected with other states of being where art (curiosity, tenderness, kindness, ecstasy) is the norm.”

Today’s sight bite— A worker high up on the new dome of the expanded library —c-l-i-c-k— nailing a layer of roofing with the evident skill of a specialist.

Tomorrow— A working weekend…

March exercise—day twenty-six— One of those days in the studio that was picked to its bones by loose ends and small, unforeseen developments. I learned that my Highway District machinations are bearing fruit (low-hanging, perhaps, with the nicer plums still out of reach). Marlene’s class was canceled, but I got the key to the room and did a solitary workout—my peculiar combination of Pilates, Yoga, and Aikido—following it up with some power-walk laps around the track. Old Hoosier ran off and sent Dana and me into the night with flashlights. We found him crossing the street a couple blocks away.

Today’s sight bite— The heavyset lady in her sweat-suit, sprinting up the stadium steps with an intrinsic athleticism —c-l-i-c-k— clearly submerged in her isolated determination to regain something lost.

Tomorrow— We begin again…

March exercise—day twenty-five— I finished another animal trademark today. I ought to count my total some time. Solving visual assignments within this type of symbology has been one of the areas of greatest fulfillment in my work as a designer. It allows me to study the characteristics of a species and discover a different way of interpreting it graphically. On another level, it puts me in contact with creators throughout the ages, from the cave painters forward. Why do we continue striving to reduce the image of the animal to its essence as an archetypal form? After my dental work was completed, I realized that our scheduled bicycle ride would be rained out. The upside: this light, steady drizzle is perfect for the lawn, re-seeded to repair the harsh effects of a landmark winter storm.

Today’s sight bite— At the very top of an ice-disfigured maple —c-l-i-c-k— the large crow speaks his “Haw. Haw,” and flaps upward into the misty dawn.

Tomorrow— New projects…

March exercise—day twenty-four— My thoughts were with Marty today and his college entrance examination. He’s making a conscious choice to seek higher education. For me it was just a given. I’ve been spending a considerable amount of studio time designing graphics for organic pork promotion, although I need to find a way to balance my hours with a wider array of projects. I tend to do this—focus intently on a single creative task, which I enjoy, but if I can become more agile with my versatility, I believe I’ll find more ongoing satisfaction with what I accomplish on a weekly basis. On another subject, I feel like I’m getting back in the groove with the Pilates class. Back troubles took a big chunk out of my exercise program this winter, and I’m ready to put that into the past.

Today’s sight bite— Fingers of rose extend above the downtown view-scape —c-l-i-c-k— as I break the crest of a hill at sunrise and direct my walk toward home.

Tomorrow— Rain clouds and more dental work…

March exercise—day twenty-three— With an effort to minding the waistline, I tried to swim laps during my lunch hour, forgetting that Centre’s spring break closes the pool, but the forgiving propinquity of campus facilities enabled me to log a decent track workout instead. This might be the last day of fair weather for awhile, and, if the maxim proves true, we can expect March to go out like the proverbial lion this season. I’d better complete my topiary assignment in the front yard before the rain arrives.

Today’s sight bite— A Bradford pear tree in full bloom —c-l-i-c-k— glorious to the eye, in spite of its undesirable arboricultural reputation.

Tomorrow— Dental work…

March exercise—day twenty-two— Dan W gave a talk at Shared Silence about his “50 Marathons in 50 States” achievement. We don’t meet at Mack’s cabin during this incarnation of the gathering, but Dana and I did go out to the Jackson farm later. After lunch with Marty, we helped clear the trails of ice-storm damage. Mack’s son is using the cabin as temporary living quarters, but there’s hope among some that the group will eventually return to the site for our twice-monthly meditation and discussion. When we got home, it was time to trim the overgrown shrubs along the driveway, which I probably wouldn’t have tackled on my own today, except for Dana’s effective role as “honcho.”

Today’s sight bite— Two familiar friends with chainsaws —c-l-i-c-k— attacking a snarled barricade of trunks and limbs.

Tomorrow— Back to the Mac…

March exercise—day twenty-one— Began today with a double card creation for mother/daughter birthdays. It was a pleasure to join Juliana’s celebration. Mombo looked good. Tireless Jerome provided me a needed treatment, plus his personal inversion table orientation. My family still believes in the potential of my talents. God bless ’em all.

Today’s sight bite— Handfuls of miniature horses —c-l-i-c-k— acquired over decades and ready at last for a two-year-old’s playtime.

Tomorrow— Internal and external chores…

March exercise—day twenty— Today’s Rotary program on disaster preparedness reinforced my awareness that replenishing the “crash bucket” should not be postponed. What is the matter with me, that I would sit on such an obvious imperative? One must always be doing rather than avoiding. The point of the exercise is not the rigorous framework, which is a means to an end. The goal, I remind myself, is mindful accomplishment through the active cultivation of constructive habit. Procrastination is nonproductive and tied to fear. William Faulkner said that “fear, like so many evil things, comes mainly out of idleness.”

Today’s sight bite— A pile of tombstone shards like broken chalk —c-l-i-c-k— sunken into the ground, perhaps a century beyond the last time one cared whose eternal rest was signified.

Tomorrow— A journey to Yorkshire Estate…

March exercise—day nineteen— Needed to catch up on rest, so a late start plus spillover activities from yesterday’s trip ate into my plan for the day. Dana and I hit another Chamber event to test the “law of attraction” on multiple levels. Hayley was voted to the All-Area First Team in ladies basketball for her third year. She topped the area as leading scorer and had the most rebounds, assists, and blocked shots for her team, ranking first in free-throw percentage. What an outstanding way to finish her high-school career!

Today’s sight bite— Super-swank graphics for Mad Men —c-l-i-c-k— reminding me of Saul Bass titles from the same era so ably depicted by the series.

Tomorrow— End of the week already?

March exercise—day eighteen— My contacts in the Transportation Cabinet invited me to make myself at home in the Planning Division for much of today, so I had an usual taste of what it might be like to experience the kind of day I’d have if I worked in the state capital. I got back to Danville in time for a 20-mile bike outing, which made for a solid day of “all things bicycle.”

Today’s sight bite— Dark birds at full wingspan —c-l-i-c-k— riding the updrafts against the entire Frankfort skyline.

Tomorrow— Back in the studio…

March exercise—day seventeen— From a walk at daybreak to my street-front work at dusk, today was as close to an ideal cycle as I am likely to achieve during this annual re-examination of conscious behavior. A disciplined, productive day of creative activity (organic pork branding), professional networking (gift shop consignments), and physical fitness (Dana’s first Pilates workout) fulfilled all the expectations of the M-X, including the need to internally defuse an unexpected, emotion-laden challenge that in the past might have thrown me out of balance for at least the remainder of the day.

Today’s sight bite— The dough men and assorted pastry makers dressed in rumpled white —c-l-i-c-k— visible from the Main Street window before dawn, arched intently over flour-dusted surfaces.

Tomorrow— A team-building mission to Frankfort…

March exercise—day sixteen— E. Tolle states, “When you don’t cover up the world with words and labels, a sense of the miraculous returns to your life.” But aren’t words what I do here? He adds, “A depth returns to your life. Things regain their newness, their freshness. And the greatest miracle is the experiencing of your essential self as prior to any words, thoughts, mental labels, and images.” Today I’m wondering what purpose it serves to make these daily entries. I suppose that’s why I refrained from log activity during my March-X one year ago, but I will continue the practice for the duration.

Today’s sight bite— Foaming swirls of analogous blues —c-l-i-c-k— as I break the surface with lungs aflame to visually freeze the digital characters.

Tomorrow— Inertia of the mature exercise…

March exercise—day fifteen— Made some decent progress on a new safari artwork and prepared two final-number engravings that I’ll send on approval to a print collector. Accidentally spent time in front of the tube watching an art history program on the KET-ED digital channel. Realized I must never forget to learn even more about the roots of modern art. It dovetailed with our recent viewing of The Rape of Europa, one of the best documentaries I’ve seen in a long time. Dana produced art in the kitchen with a another day of fine meals. As usual, I am the fortunate beneficiary.

Today’s sight bite— A Sunday invasion of workmen and their equipment —c-l-i-c-k— executing a belated but welcome pick-up of our ice-storm waste heaps.

Tomorrow— Second-half buzzer sounds…

March exercise—day fourteen— It’s a rule of thumb that it will rain whenever I need to deliver physical artwork, but I managed satisfactorily to get a new set of engravings over to the Art Center and also had my first chat with the incoming executive director. So, if you need it to rain in your town, just arrange a display of my artwork and that should take care of it. Not you, Brendan; I’m quite sure you get enough precipitation out there, although it would be cool to have some of my art make it to the west coast. I get ideas like that, but there’s often not a lot to back them up. Maybe I missed my chance when I was churning out some interesting collages while Ian was in L.A. Many ideas are fresh and I get right to them. Others hang around so long they become annoying, until I realize it’s me at whom I’m perturbed, for allowing them to rot, or, worse than that, I get sick and tired of chattering about them in my head without any action. Ideas like that are usually disavowed, or I just get fed up and finally proceed with one, invariably pushing away another newer, more stimulating notion that just stands there listening to the other one grumble, “Move aside, buster, I’ve got seniority.”

Today’s sight bite— A black and white print in a plastic holder on the wall, somehow seeming tiny and drab —c-l-i-c-k— but that’s my engraving featured next to the gift shop’s doorway.

Tomorrow— Avoid the lure of Sunday languor and prepare for an ambitious workweek…

March exercise—day thirteen— Nothing much to highlight, except that I did finish signing and numbering my two most recent limited editions of wood-engraving prints. A recent “email conversation” with one of America’s most impressive exemplars of the Arts and Crafts style yielded praise for my printmaking. That’s more than enough to keep my enthusiasm intact, but I know I can do even better. When I look at my work I tend to see the flaws. That’s constructive on the one hand, but I think it deters me from being more prolific. I would never want to lose the capacity for a self-critique, but there must be a reliable, practical way to surmount the hesitancy. Perhaps that’s why Brendan enforces his week-day display of creativity. Must we thus trick ourselves? Probably. Indeed, it may be the only way, until habit takes over.

Today’s sight bite— Too large to be called a Yorkie; too small to be called anything else —c-l-i-c-k— Bruce’s friend, Hoosier, negotiates the back steps on his 16th canine birthday.

Tomorrow— Nothing less than the full-fledged matrix…

March exercise—day twelve— The Graybeard Prospector combed his hair with a wagon wheel and grabbed the Medicine Woman for a productive “Business Over Coffee.” Looks like the two hit it off well with The Texan and his Saddle Lady during a fun, informative breakfast, even if they didn’t break camp with that sack o’ gold— dangit!

Today’s sight bite— A white blanket on the driveway, tinted to an odd warmth by street lamps —c-l-i-c-k— just the kind of olden-times “pack snow” sure to gladden the heart of a young fort designer.

Tomorrow— A scheduled late alarm to cure the deprivation…

March exercise—day eleven— The air had a noticeable bite as I walked to campus, so I welcomed it, knowing I usually feel tired at the beginning of “act two.” In the absence of enthusiasm, rituals must drive the momentum, enhanced by proven boosters—stimulative variety, forced incremental achievement, constrained creativity, doses of nature, and, of course, music.

Today’s sight bite— My Speedo tinted pool goggles —c-l-i-c-k— hanging from the same locker-room hook where I accidentally left them two weeks ago.

Tomorrow— A networking opportunity, plus another shot at the $900 door prize…

March exercise—day ten— I was pleased to find that new priorities were finally coming into alignment today. Summer-like weather and a multi-day forecast of showers compelled us to spend some of the afternoon raking and seeding the backyard. My lower back felt stable enough for me to participate in most of Marlene’s Pilates class and to put in some additional time at the gym. After 40 minutes of spinning, I felt like I hadn’t been on a bike in a year. Afterwards, Dana and I shared a dinner by candlelight to celebrate the 31st anniversary of our original date, discussing our recollections of life in the 70s. Her chicken prepared in sherry and sour cream was superb, and I selected a Belgian white brew to complement.

Today’s sight bite— The aged, once-spreading tree on campus that inspired my composition for “Boss’s Bucket” —c-l-i-c-k— now forever rendered by the ice storm a triple amputee.

Tomorrow— An ambitious checklist and my first appointment with the pool in 14 days…

March exercise—day nine— Where did the day go? Still trying to achieve the level of focus that makes this exercise worthwhile. Probably the most interesting conversation of the day was with the Lieutenant. We brainstormed about having my friend Eric come up from Franklin for a concert early this summer. From the time Eric created “Cooler” in 1999, I hoped for another CD from him with the same innovative blend of mellow reverence and uplifting energy. I was delighted to learn about “The Jazz in Me,” and invited Dan to check out the new disc. I think this music is perfect for a fundraising concert or community outreach event. I’ve probably written about Eric here before. Dana arranged for him to play at my 50th birthday party. His jazzy tunes are laid back but buoyant, and his improvisational gifts have clearly reached new heights.

Today’s sight bite— A balding Walie, tugging at the leash —c-l-i-c-k— as if she’d forgotten everything I taught her about the proper way to take a neighborhood stroll.

Tomorrow— Perhaps enough physical progress to attempt a Pilates session…

March exercise—day eight— Dadbo would have relished seizing a weekend like this for a constructive jump on spring, and now, as I type this entry after dark, that pleasant bubble of exotic air is being shoved aside by severe weather. Dana and I enjoyed our morning walk past the marina, out to the abandoned island resort, but we shared a desire to have hiked in a setting which might’ve done better justice to the unseasonably warm day. Nevertheless, the steep hills gave our hearts an overdue workout, in addition to the panoramic views of Herrington Lake.

Today’s sight bite— The squirrel, positioned under our damaged porch eave —c-l-i-c-k— balanced on a rotting slat like a springboard diver.

Tomorrow— Volunteer consultations kick off a week of diverse projects…

March exercise—day seven— Not unlike many other people, most of the day was spent out of doors, capturing the mild weather. My lower back complained like a cranky teenager, but I was eager to tie up the loose ends of yard clean-up. The next rain will set the stage for lawn seeding, and I needed to clear away the last of the limb debris. How’s that for an exciting log entry? We ended the evening with a viewing of Eastwood’s Changeling. His color palette was handsome and the period look convincing, but an effective mood never coalesced for me, as with Mystic or Baby. I was ready to move on before it was over. Clint, it’s time to give Paul Haggis a call.

Today’s sight bite— Red bird perched on the stub of a butchered tree —c-l-i-c-k— singing as if there were no more frozen mornings ahead.

Tomorrow— An effort to guide the exercise toward imaginative waters…

March exercise—day six— When the corner video store can tell you every movie you’ve ever rented there, and a vast enterprise like Amazon can process and recall each product you may have momentarily drooled over in front of your monitor, there is absolutely no excuse for a hospital not making readily available—and for not enforcing—a list of medications that will cause known danger to a particular patient, especially when just such an allergy list has been provided to it on more than one occasion. My conclusion is not that it can’t; the shameful circumstance is that it apparently won’t. Incredible as it seems, Bruce has recovered enough to be released today. I shall do everything within my power to see that he never spends another minute under the care of that institution.

Today’s sight bite— Bruce seated at his favorite spot on the couch —c-l-i-c-k— laughing when I prescribe a dose of Patrick McGoohan.

Tomorrow— Return to the full-blown exercise…

March exercise—day five— Improvements were recognized today on all fronts, but I don’t think I shall personally feel 100% for a bit more time. Bruce was doing a newspaper puzzle (a most welcome sign), but seems more concerned with solving the riddle of his unexpected plunge into such a perilous state. Brendan sent a heartwarming note of support. The County Judge and I secured an appointment in the state capital to visit with Transportation Cabinet people. Attended the reception at the Arts Center, learned more from David F about getting introduced to an art buyer, and met a very good pastel artist from Lexington. After that, Dana went to the New York Philharmonic performance with our Russian friend, Irina, another exceptionally creative individual.

Today’s sight bite— Bruce in his demeaning hospital garb —c-l-i-c-k— sitting on the edge of his bed in conversation with an ever-faithful mother.

Tomorrow— A new attempt at imposing the exercise…

March exercise—day four— Spent most of the day in bed with some sort of relapse into flu-like symptoms. On top of it, my sore back feels no better than yesterday. I didn’t make it over to the hospital. Dana reported that Bruce recognized her, wept, and wanted to come home. Things are moving in the right direction at last.

Today’s sight bite— Silhouettes of treetops visible through my window —c-l-i-c-k— like a cut-paper illustration, with the diagonal slashes of ice-broken limbs disturbing the composition.

Tomorrow— Hope for improved well-being…

March exercise—day three— (Dear Back, You picked a great time to act up again. Please knock it off and return my mobility. Your friend, John.) The probable result of a 24-hour dose of stress, my lower back has treated me with an unexpected spasm when I bent over to work on a snarl of power cords. Bruce is doing slightly better after they moved a dialysis unit into his ICU chamber, but he still doesn’t recognize his visitors. Mombo sent out a nice prayer request.

Today’s sight bite— The high-resolution digital television picture —c-l-i-c-k— that is a result of solid professional know-how.

Tomorrow— I have absolutely no idea what Wednesday will bring…

March exercise—day two— If you want to watch the day blow a gasket, try imposing a rigid framework on it. We were at the hospital by midmorning, after learning that Bruce had been transferred to critical care in a state of acute delirium. I had to break away and respond to the County Judge Executive, who sought an immediate consultation on pressing “bicycle matters.” Have I actually become the local “go-to guy” on those issues? By the end of the day, it’s clear to us that Bruce is having an adverse reaction to medications he should not have been given—but nobody connected with his care seems willing to admit the obvious.

Today’s sight bite— The incomparable, gradient ultramarine of a pre-sunrise sky —c-l-i-c-k— crenelated from below by the jutting shapes of downtown commercial structures.

Tomorrow— Juggling the rituals of heightened awareness with the breaking developments of family crisis…

March exercise—day one— One would think that I’d be completely familiar with February’s annual habit of ducking out early, but it caught me by surprise again this year, and now the March Exercise is upon me before the full preliminaries are complete. Surely the highlight of the day was our meeting in Lexington with K&KK about their wedding ideas and plans. More than an invitation design, this will be an opportunity to collaborate on introducing the thematic impression of what is certain to be a classy, memorable event.

Today’s sight bite— The “evening star,” in all her naked splendor, poses proudly above the urban competitors —c-l-i-c-k— and I almost convince myself that I can see her tiny crescent with the bare eye.

Tomorrow— With Monday-morning appropriateness, details of the regimen are put into effect…