Archive for the ‘Studio’ Category

Facing another March X challenge!

Thursday, February 29th, 2024

“Everyone has now seen that pandemics are another way for the military, intelligence, and public health services to expand their budgets and their power. In 2020, public health, defense, and intelligence agencies weaponized a [Covid-19] pandemic, resulting in unprecedented profits to Big Pharma and the dramatic expansion of the security/surveillance state, including a systemic abandonment of constitutional rights — effectively a coup d’état against liberal democracy globally.”

Robert F Kennedy, Jr / The Wuhan Cover-Up: And the Terrifying Bioweapons Arms Race (Kindle edition, p. 385)
 

I am recovered from an unnamed health ordeal that hit me the day after Christmas and lasted a month before I felt reasonably well. Then another month before I felt like myself. My recent article in Clandestiny will be all I say about it any time soon. So now it’s Leap Day and the eve of another March X. I won’t be recording regular notes about my heightened activity this time. Priorities to be confronted: 1) completing a “legacy collage” commission for a Dominican Sister of Peace: 2) building a greenhouse in the backyard of the Town House; 3) preparations for a new gardening season; 4) physical conditioning to ready myself for a decent bicycling program in 2024. Be seeing you in April!

March Ex(plosion) under way!

Saturday, March 20th, 2021

Follow my art-each-day ritual at The Collage Miniaturist.

 

The Need to Take Sides
collage miniature by J A Dixon
6.75 x 8.75 inches
from my Series of Rock

With a whole bunch o’ help from my friends . . .

Thursday, May 30th, 2019

Here’s an overview from The Collage Miniaturist about the
creative development of my tenth poster for the GABBF:

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

“While many modern-day album artworks tend to favor strict minimalism, The Beatles make a serious case for going bold and wacky without any type of restraint.”
— Nicole Singh
 

As promised, I’m devoting an entry to the project that kept me out of the collage studio for at least a dozen weeks. I shall beg your forgiveness at the outset for delving into the details of a digital process. Not only has this site kept a seven-year focus on traditional cut-and-glue techniques, but I haven’t indulged the applied-arts side of my multiple personality as a graphic artist. I’m going to depart from that now — perhaps just this once — because it’s been an extraordinary circumstance for me, and a few of you may find the description worthwhile. At any rate, I encourage everyone to read Patrick Roefflaer’s article for a story that is genuinely more interesting than mine!

Not so long ago, a prominent local musician and former brass band director took me aside at an exhibition opening. Based on her recognition of my fondness for collage, she asked me if I would take on a visual homage to the Sgt. Pepper’s album cover design. The purpose would be to mark the 30th production of the Great American Brass Band Festival, held each June in our hometown of Danville, Kentucky. It had always been her dream to link the announcement of her retirement at the annual weekend of concerts to the classic album, with a medley of tunes arranged for brass instruments. Sadly, a severe health crisis had forced her early retirement before that could happen, but she preserved hope that a multi-discipline Beatles tribute for the festival’s upcoming milestone might happen in 2019.

I’d already designed nine posters during the festival’s lifespan. To create a tenth was tempting, and this idea had a barbed hook. It really snagged me. My previous experience offered no sense of proportion about the magnitude of time to which I was committing myself when I said, “Sure.” The first obstacle was whether we were allowed to do it at all. we soon discovered that an enormous number of entities had made a visual salute to the famous image over the past fifty years, and that it had already become a ritual of pop culture, in spite of the complexities involved. There’s even a website that shows over a hundred previous parodies. Before long, we had mutually decided that it might as well be our local festival’s turn to pay homage.

The assignment was now in my lap, and I was overwhelmed with a desire to do it justice and exceed expectations. I found inspiration in filmmakers who I admired (like John Frankenheimer or Robert Altman), because their time-consuming approach would be required for what I’d bitten off. I wanted to bring the same passion, attention to detail, and collaborative leadership to my effort. I ended up shelving all other priorities and putting a ludicrous amount of time into the project, but not without the help of many partners. First and foremost was my wife, Dana, who jumped in head first to play a key part in nearly every aspect of the creative enterprise. After getting advice from an experienced model railroader, she began crafting a miniature flower garden to display the festival acronym for a mandatory foreground allusion. More than once, she would come back to the unfinished artifact to find that its spongy base had “spit out” some of the “flowers.”

The rest of it hinged on two important elements — whether we could pull together our own “Fab Four,” and then surround them with a crowd of numerous figures. It was determined that the Beatles would be “represented” by the previous directors of the Advocate Brass Band, a Golden-Age-style band associated with every festival. Their initial formation to color a political rally in 1989 was a direct influence on the organizing of the annual event itself. This made perfect sense because the foursome would include the festival’s pair of co-founders and their band uniform jackets, although not psychedelic, would be an effective visual reference point. We immediately knew that some digital sleight of hand would be called for, since only two of the four were locally present. One was near a university town many counties away, and the fourth had moved to a distant state. It took lots of coordination to solve that equation, and we pulled it off with the crucial participation of my friend, photography pro Bill Griffin, who took time away from his day job of wealth management. In keeping with the guiding theme of “a little help from our friends,” getting all the ingredients for the poster art to coalesce would demand the magnanimous assistance of others — furnishing space, props, and standing in at our photo shoot, plus image research and acquisition.

At a certain point, I began to focus on researching the background “crowd of fans,” to honor the countless performers, organizers, sponsors, staff, and volunteers who made three decades of festivals possible. It became a daunting, complicated task of culling and selection. I realized that the poster would be the size of a picnic table if everyone who deserved to be on it were included. The original setup by Jann Haworth and Peter Blake was peopled with life-size, hand-tinted cut-outs that imposed a certain physical limitation, and it was fabricated within two weeks. A virtual approach was too open-ended for comfort. There was a limit to how methodical I could become in choosing ingredients for the montage of faces. The solution was to approach it more intuitively, as I would any of my “maximalist” works.

All collage art worthy of the name is irrational at some level, and one of the reasons the original Beatles art is so iconic is the sheer illogic of it. And so, for us, that idea led to a few incongruous personalities, such as Carrie Nation and Howdy Doody. The final assembly was challenging, painstaking, rewarding, and fun, all at the same time. After refining the list of candidates and compiling the source files, each master image had to be sillouetted, retouched, color balanced, and optimized for inclusion. It seemed like the rearranging would never end before every element of the composition appeared to “belong.” I shall confess that I do not possess a powerhouse workstation. The increasing quantity of digital layers in Photoshop had to be continuously merged to prevent the composite file from paralyzing my Macintosh. Even so, it would often exceed 500 MB in size. I tried to save and back up as often as feasible without breaking stride, but there were periodic freezes that would result in “three steps forward and two steps back.”

There should be no misunderstanding, however. The marathon endeavor was punctuated by many fortunate, often astonishing developments. One of our “Fab Four” individuals made a vital connection with an outstanding photographer in Athens, Georgia, who went the extra yard in matching my parameters for an important superimposition of the black-suited Dr Foreman. He also shot an antique bass drum to add another convincing Sgt Pepper’s touch — the same one that appeared on the festival’s first poster in 1990, and it still had the original, hand-painted emblem! Dana took the lead in preparing the poster “mechanical” for offset production, as she always has done for Dixon Design. She also knocked one out of the park during the solicitation of bids. As a contribution to the landmark production, Mike Abbott of Thoroughbred Printing agreed to produce the job at cost, and spent an hour with the press operator, Dana, and me, making sure we were satisfied with the quality.

Our closing duty was to devise a printable key for identifying all the individuals and design elements. My original idea of including a longer “blurb” for each line item quickly became far-fetched when producing the abbreviated version dragged on. By the time we declared it done, the “labor of love” vibe had been exhausted. There wasn’t much love left in the air, and I just wanted all of it to hit the street, which it has, of course, and the positive response has been even more than I anticipated.

This post is already far too long, so I won’t get started on my Eva Marie Saint story, but I need to explain why we included a picture of the creators, and then I’ll finish up on an appropriate collage note. I was adamant that I would not fall prey to the Hitchcock Urge. I had no interest in, nor justification for, inserting myself, since I was making so many brutal choices to leave others on the cutting room floor. Dana was in total agreement, but the team of people who helped with the proofing process took an opposing viewpoint. Their collective drum beat was that the final rendition must include us! You can see that we eventually waved the white flag and stuck a small portrait on top of the Bourbon barrel.

A tiny figure seated at a kitchen table was provided by the Great American Dollhouse Museum as a nod to the Shirley Temple doll in the original composition, which also featured a Madame Tussauds wax figure of Sonny Liston on the opposite side. I knew there had to be a way to include Kentucky’s own Muhammed Ali in our version. Rather than take unavailable time to solicit permission to use a photograph that might get buried in the sea of faces, I turned to my friend Robert Hugh Hunt, who kindly let us insert the extraordinary collage portrait from his 20th Century Icons series!

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends!
 

30th GABBF Poster
digital homage by Dana and John A Dixon
24 x 36 inches
Purchase one now! 
 
Online order page includes a printable key to identification, 
plus a ‘special thank you’ to all our essential collaborators!

35 years!

Monday, September 11th, 2017

“As a husband, you have to remember the crucial importance of three little words — ‘I was wrong.’ That will take you a lot further than ‘I love you.’”
— Charlton Heston
 

After pondering what to do with my stash of birds for far too long, I decided to start a new series that I describe as “Crafted.” Here is an example — a 35th Anniversary present to my indispensable partner and dearest friend.
 
That Red Boot ~ J A Dixon

That Red Boot
collage miniature by J A Dixon
5.375 x 7.25 inches
collection of Dana Dixon

heading into March . . .

Wednesday, March 1st, 2017

I was stumped about an idea for Gwen’s “225” show about Kentucky’s history until I turned off the radio on a drive to the farm. Dana had suggested Star of Abraham, but I figured I needed to revise and extend it somehow. Near Hustonville it hit me: Lincoln’s noteworthy declaration, “I hope to have God on my side, but I must have Kentucky.” I got down a flurry of thumbnail concepts in my journal when I arrived at the Blue Bank Hall. It was barely necessary to ever look at them again, because the development of the final idea took on a momentum of its own. Tonight I finished the home stretch of the artwork when I finished painting the lettering with acrylics, assembling the components for a photograph, and making the midnight deadline with a half hour to spare. As I enter into March, my thoughts are concerned with my annual exercise. Now that I have “I Must Have Kentucky” under my belt, I am committed to a series of low-stress improvements in my collage studio and work pattern. If I also complete some new experiments, that will be icing on the proverbial cake.

Wednesday, October 19th, 2016


 
It pleases me to announce that we shall open our studio and gallery to the public again during the first weekend of November. For more information, please visit our website or facebook page.
 
 
 
 

 
 

A Day in My Life

Wednesday, September 21st, 2016

“Woke up. Got out of bed.
Dragged a comb across my head.”

The Beatles, 1967

Dana was up early and walked over to Centre’s track before I woke up and found the coffee hot. I needed to finish the digital file retouching of the RFs color composite illustration. I wanted to be ready to send it to the printer by the time she returned from her Architectural Review Board meeting. We were able to do just that, and I hand-cut a prototype mat so that I could show James my idea for a standard 14 x 11 framable print. The water was still warm in Dana’s tub, so I took a quick bath and dressed for the day. She suggested we get some lunch after showing James the test print. On the way to pick it up, the Avalon sedan’s brakes went out right before we got to Danny the mechanic’s garage on South Fourth, so we rolled right in. Wayne D happened to be there and we talked to him about his scheduled lower leg amputation (not a decision anyone would make casually). Clearly it was his only option, and he was down to choosing the surgeon. While Dana arranged for the repairs, I started to walk home to get the Toyota pickup (Joben). Turns out I would get a walk under my belt, too. When I bent to pick up what looked like litter, I discovered it was a 20-dollar bill in poor condition. Well, that was the second bit of luck. When I got back to the garage, we headed to Minuteman Press to get back on schedule. The test print was terribly dark, but when they re-ran it at the lightest setting, it looked fine. We decided to go have a Mexican lunch nearby, and followed that with a stop at the ‘Bean’ coffee shop. When I inquired about the senior discount with the lady there, she didn’t even know it was mentioned on the menu, and we joked around for few minutes before finding out that she knew Susan and James. Her name was Tammy Bernard, and James had actually been her ‘bundle boy’ decades before at Liberty Sportwear (1980?). She looked quite fit, and sure enough she was a fellow Boot Camp devotee with Susan. Her husband, Bill Devine, is a physician at UK Health. She ended up enjoying our chat so much that she gave us our Americano cups on the house. On to the 10th Planet to see James. He liked the final artwork and test print, so Dana called in the quantity for the order. James handed me $50 and persuaded me to see if I could get all the mats cut at the Frame Cellar by the close of business. We picked up the prints and headed back downtown to John C’s shop. Dana told me that she had seen him unlocking his place after 6 am, and I was worried that he might not have stayed open all day, but he was there working. I was astonished to find out that he hadn’t been in his storefront since the first of the month and that he was “playing catch-up.” Not a good time to ask him to drop what he was doing, but my luck held. He was willing to cut the mats for James right then and there. He told me that he had been in Florida visiting his son Paden (named after the Kevin Kline character in Silverado), and when he got back to Kentucky, he had to turn around and go right back after learning Paden had crashed his motorcycle when a woman pulled out in front of him (she never even saw what she had done). For some reason, Paden had returned to the hospital after they released him, and it was discovered that he was bleeding internally from a small rupture in a renal artery. (The surgeon reportedly said, “If you had gone to bed, you probably wouldn’t have awoken the next day.”) So, I managed to pick the first day he was back in the frame shop after this family ordeal, and to top it off, he gave me a discount on the whole rush job. I told him he had to think up a reason to ask me for a big favor. Back in the studio, I put all the new prints into the mats while Dana did the paperwork for James. I dropped her off at Danny’s garage before I went back to see James at the Planet. He was very satisfied with everything he needed for his RF gathering in Ohio. He and Susan were planning on leaving the next morning, and he was “trying to squeeze five days of work into three.” Even though he still had a late night ahead of him, he was in a relaxed mood and we talked about the extraordinary event on Blue Bank Road when the missing todder was found on the Sweeney Knob after a ten-hour search involving local first responders, hundreds of volunteers, and multiple law enforcement entities. This week will always be remembered for the miraculous rescue of the little Chumbley boy in the Clan Valley “forcefield.” Thousands of people must have been praying, but nobody’s pleas could have been more pure than Mombo’s. When I returned, Dana had brought home some organic wine, so I opened a bottle and we made fruit-&-nut plates for supper and watched three episodes of The Affair. I liked them enormously, except for one part that can only be described as pornographic. It was obvious why Maura T (Helen) had been nominated for an Emmy. I could not believe that Sebastian Junger did a cameo (was it meant to be tongue-in-cheek?), but I got a major kick out of his appearance. What a day! Very intense on many levels, but without the characteristic “fears and doubts.” It was time for bed, in preparation for an early start to prepare for my multi-day care-giving stay with Mombo (when I hope to finally complete the oak-trim details above the stone flue). There won’t be many more quite like today…

Until April . . .

Sunday, March 1st, 2015

There is much at this site about the March Exercise, my annual focus on building another layer of creative habit that can be internalized as part of a new cycle. It began as an experiment in time management nine years ago. For the past two, I have showcased a month-long collage-a-day ritual at The Collage Miniaturist. My tenth March Exercise will be a departure. Blog entries and updates to social networks will be temporarily suspended, as I concentrate my time on a few major studio objectives. So long until April.

Gallery Hop Stop!

Tuesday, November 11th, 2014

Gallery Hop Stop, November 14, 2014
 

Tuesday, September 30th, 2014

 

 
As we did last year for the first time, we shall open our studio and gallery to the public on the first weekend of November. For more information, please visit this page.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

An Ideal Day

Monday, September 8th, 2014

There are different types of ideal days.
For me, surely today was one of them.

After what may have been the best night’s sleep that I have had in two or three months, I woke up with a cool breeze above my pillow and came downstairs to discover a nutritious breakfast smoothie and a pot of hot coffee to go with it. Thank you, Dana, for getting my day off to such a positive start. TSLA, YHOO, TJX, and FEYE took over from there, when the market opened, and I spent a productive morning managing my active trades for four separate accounts, including the Trust investment. I may have gotten a suitable entry price for a long position in VMW, but only time will tell with that. When the office intercom beeped, I was the beneficiary of a delicious roast turkey sandwich with a bowl of fresh gazpacho. It has been a fine season for tomatoes, and I am still working on getting my fill. Dana said that aging Walie was having one of her most lively days in a long time. After lunch, I noticed a new Ommatidia story by Brendan (which always makes my day), checked email, and worked a bit on my Spotify playlists, now that Marty has me successfully making the transition from Pandora. Some time ago I figured that eventually one would be able to watch any movie or TV show on demand, but I had not expected so soon to see the same be true of music. Yes, I have to listen to commercials now and then, but they are not as obnoxious as those on the Pandora site, since most of the Spotify ads are about the musical offerings themselves. Then it was into the painting studio for another session on the GAB portrait (with a few Danny Darst tunes for good company). I can say that I finally overcame the wall of fear (compliments of an old pal named perfectionism) that became attached to this commission, but now the pressing need is to find a route to the summit by the end of the month. I have pledged to myself to complete the artwork for Greg’s and Lynne’s return from their trip to France. At 4 o’clock, I crossed the street to play chess with the library group: one win, one loss (strangely enough, it usually works out that I beat the people I am capable of defeating and lose to those I am not capable of defeating). Although I rediscovered chess through vision therapy a while back, I am getting more serious about it this year, now that I can regularly match wits with local players right next door. Before I left, I checked out Is He Dead? (I admit that I wanted the Mark Twain comedy primarily to study the engravings by Barry Moser). When I got home I crossed paths with Dana, leaving to meet her spiritual group at the library, and then I jumped back into my yew-trimming topiary project in the front yard. With each passing growing season, it is easier and faster for me to keep them in shape, but more difficult to make significant changes or refinements. Nature will provide an occasional opportunity for a new direction or interesting detour, but it is mostly about keeping the whole effect under control. When the “skeeters” decided it was time to bite my ankles, it was off to Centre for some weight lifting before dinner. Being settled into the gym groove has always been a confidence-booster for me, and that goes back nearly 45 years. Peter Lupus emphasized that 100 twists a day kept his waistline small, although I have not been able to achieve the daily habit yet. In the workout room, I combine strenuous twists with the “ab chair” to manage my own belly, plus a circuit of machines and dumbbell exercises, in addition to the trusty bench press (where is that best buddy to spot me?). As I entered our back door after a brisk walk home, a blend of magnificent odors told me that Dana had been baking up a storm — sourdough bread, chocolate cake, and apple pie! We are preparing to celebrate Marty’s promotion to full-time employment at Hitachi in Harrodsburg. I am not the only member of the household on a roll. Well done, Grandson (and he got an A in his first course at the Technical College). Marty happened to be catching up on sleep (I cannot imagine handling a night-shift + school schedule the way he does), so Dana and I split a Red Hook and enjoyed a bowl of Swiss-chard-lentil soup with raw-tomato-basil-cheese salad. All that was left for me to do was to record my ideal day at this blogsite, and now I am ready to hit the sack. Tomorrow we shall begin again!
 


 

March Exercise IX ~ day eighteen

Tuesday, March 18th, 2014

It is Tuesday, and yesterday’s early-morning miniature, “Proscenium,” completed for TCM, was posted with Friday’s date. I am trying to catch up with my daily sequence by finishing multiples from an array of partially completed collage artworks. It has scrambled my brain unnecessarily, and causes me to question the entire process, which now seems a bit fraudulent. The goal of 31 miniatures in 31 days is still intact, but it plays with my head to scramble like this. Being out of the studio for most of the weekend did not help matters. Relax. Am I forgetting Acuff’s second rule of getting it all done?

Gallery Hop ~ a precursor to Open Studio

Wednesday, August 21st, 2013

At the recent Gallery Hop Stop in downtown Danville, I was pleased that people sought out my display of collage miniatures, tucked away in the conference room of Tye Financial. Needless to say, this small town in Kentucky is not a stronghold of contemporary art collectors, but the opportunity to interact with those kind enough to pause and discuss the medium of collage is always a valuable learning experience for me. Most of my hoard is now configured for direct purchase at The Collage Miniaturist, before all of it is made available to the public at the 2013 ArtTour, Annual Open Studios of Central Kentucky.

Go ahead and grab one for yourself before November.
 

My recent display of collage miniatures in downtown Danville.

Resolved . . .

Tuesday, January 1st, 2013

For those who go out of their way to sow seeds of disdain for the customary list of New Year’s resolutions: it’s not about now long it stays viable, or about the resulting success rate, or whether it retains meaning in a culture where overt self-improvement carries a tinge of “fuddy-duddy-ness.” For me it’s about one’s mindset at the cyclical cusp. Is it merely “the thought that counts”? No, it’s more than that. The thought becomes a renewal of self-belief, expressed in line-items of striving. It requires introspection, evaluation, and discernment—hardly fashionable, to be sure. All I know is that they have worked for me at some level, so I’m not sheepish about continuing the practice. I don’t feel the need to broadcast my aims for the year, and listing some of them here hardly constitutes that, since I seriously doubt if a half dozen people still pay any attention to this worn-out log.

• Complete the Barrett portrait.
• Do some form of vision therapy each day.
• Resurrect a more impressive fitness regimen.
• Restore my practice of stretching and meditation.
• Elevate my profile as a collage artist.
• Launch the handmade card biz with Cliff.
• Complete home improvements for an open house.
• Create our first knob-land walking trails at Blue Bank.
• Outperform the market with rules-based trading.
• Produce the first digital version of a Clan Map.
• Boost participation in caring for my mother.

Two More Lost from Cast of OHIOANS . . .

Tuesday, September 25th, 2012

It was 31 years ago that I finished the OHIOANS painting that would become a poster for Wright State University and a milestone artwork for me. David R sent me an image of the wall in his new office/showroom, and it’s flattering to see how he configured the wall display. Hard to believe that OHIOANS has been around for this long. We still have the original painting hanging in our Danville studio. I thought about the artwork when Neil Armstrong died. Quite a few of those depicted were living when I created the original, and I can’t help but experience a certain sadness each time one is lost (Owens right after completion, and then, over the years: Hope, Lynde, Rogers, Bombeck, Newman, and just recently, Diller, as well as Armstrong). At the beginning, I had the wild idea of trying to circulate a poster through celebrity representatives and build a master copy with multiple signatures, but never followed through. Then I thought of just getting a poster into the hands of each one alive, but I didn’t have enough to spare. I think the University did present some to a few, such as Erma Bombeck, who made some witty remark about her beehive hair-do.

There is a space above Grant’s head that I’ve used to draw an additional portrait once or twice. The one I remember most was Daytonian Allan W. Eckert. I gave it to him the first time we met during a book signing in Ohio. Years later I talked to him in Kentucky and he told me that he had included the poster with his manuscripts and “papers” that would be turned over to an institution after his demise. That was the last time I saw him. The most memorable encounter with respect to the poster was the time Jamie Farr performed in Kentucky (he played George Burns in a one-man show), and we had the good fortune to greet him backstage afterward to personally present a poster. After a demanding stage performance that must have been totally exhausting, he couldn’t have been nicer to us and joked about Corporal Klinger and his tiara.

I realize now that I was young when I pulled this off. I felt mature at the time, having just created the most challenging piece of my early career. I was 29 years old, engaged to be married, and fully ensconced in my own independent studio. In many ways, I had already achieved nearly all the goals I had set in my youth.

davidr_ohioans.jpg

OHIOANS hangs in David’s new office and showroom
(Click to view a larger image.)

Tribal Monday the First

Monday, May 7th, 2012

Kathleen and I inaugurated our two-person discussion group this afternoon. The first thing I noticed was how tranquil a space she has created as a “shrine” for her artistic dedication. One can truly listen to the heart in such a studio, and I appreciate her willingness to share it for a couple hours. For me the sense of place at Sunwise Farm is inseparable from Kathleen’s mixed media collage. The fullness of her artwork is about energy, and this energy—with the powerful intention it carries—is tied in some significant way to a field of Light that is carefully nurtured for optimum receptivity and intuition. I have long admired the way in which she maintains the uplifting focus of her art, an essence that is recognizable at fifty paces, and how her respect for the process is embodied in her bright, organized, efficient studio. What an inspiration for someone who seems caught in a perpetual struggle to concentrate, prioritize, and decisively press forward with a more streamlined vision.

bl171b.jpg

Book of Light, page 171 by Kathleen O’Brien
www.kathleen-obrien.com

March-Ex VI: fell short on day twelve

Monday, March 12th, 2012

“If I believe I cannot do something, it makes me incapable of doing it. When I believe I can, then I acquire the ability to do it, even if I did not have the ability in the beginning.”
— Mahatma Gandhi

Spent much of the day on self-promotion and never quite managed to get the grand exercise in gear. Glen Bishop replied, “I wish you wouldn’t have said that.”

3_12_20121.jpg

Mere Habitation

March-Ex VI: hacked through on day seven

Wednesday, March 7th, 2012

If the front side of the coin of success is the ability to set clear goals for yourself, then the flip side of the same coin is the ability to get yourself organized and work on your most valuable tasks, every minute of every day. Your choices and decisions have combined to create your entire life to this moment. To change or improve your life in any way, you have to make new choices and new decisions that are more in alignment with who you really are and what you really want.
—from Goals! by Brian Tracy

Struggled through the old quicksand of dragging a project up to its production deadline, while discovering more and more unsolved problems. But, as usual, with two minds brought to bear, everything was resolved in the end. Then I hurried over to the bank to test the digital projector made available to me for Friday’s presentation. Just giving the guys a quick preview of my talk made me realize I know my subject thoroughly. The topic is not the issue; it’s all about the delivery. Linda’s workshop was an unexpected clinic on public presentation. With that in mind, I have plenty of time tomorrow to prepare. Bert Cooper exclaimed, “Turning creative success into business is your work, and you have failed!”

3_7_2012.jpg

Grounds for Confusion

March-Ex VI: fretted about deadlines on day four

Sunday, March 4th, 2012

We must work and affirm, but we have no
guess of the value of what we say or do.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson

I keep catching myself giving more awareness to the overall work load and target dates than the most important thing—that which is in front of me at a particular moment. With a two-day workshop in Lexington beginning tomorrow, I worry about what is due on Wednesday and Friday instead of attending to the present. Time to walk away for a spell, and, in the late afternoon sun, dig and build a new pit for making tomato-patch compost. Nothing like a tree-top cardinal proclaiming his purpose to put things into perspective. Roger Sterling shouted, “I’m going to put you on notice. You’re in over your head.”

3_4_2012.jpg

Blog Jam

March-Ex VI: pondered ruin on day two

Friday, March 2nd, 2012

“Then the gates of hell opened up.”
—an unidentified Indiana dispatcher

“It was beautiful. And now it’s just gone. I mean, gone.”
—Andy Bell, Henryville

A huge battery of storm cells on a forced march across the Midwest left decimation and loss of life behind it in Kentucky. I felt uneasy leaving home to play cards with friends, especially after an exhausting push to complete another presentation for the music CD graphics. Archibald Whitman scoffed, “Look at your hands.”

3_2_2012.jpg

Maelstrom

March-Ex VI: thought about death on day one

Thursday, March 1st, 2012

But whether you liked it or not, Death was something you had to go through life with. Plenty times you would meet up with it if you lived long enough, and you might as well get used to it as you could.
—from The Trees by Conrad Richter

Saw the curled-up squirrel on the sidewalk, lifeless as a piece of fast-food litter. New structure for the regimen proved to be a reasonably good framework. Pushed ahead toward the album cover deadline. James stopped by to discuss trust matters. Bert Cooper urged, “Reconcile!”

3_1_20121.jpg

Incidentals

The Do-over Day

Sunday, March 6th, 2011

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March Exercise —day six— That feeling in the pit of the gut when one’s new car gets its first scratch on bumper, fender, or door— exactly what I sensed today after my well-meaning blunder rendered Dana’s refurbished Mac Pro unable to start up. Yes, it meant I couldn’t present to her a pristine configuration as the result of my several days of work. But that’s all. No need to get agitated… no need to react as I might have in the past. Finished is better than perfect. Apple anticipates such a thing with its “Archive and Install” option, so use it and don’t fret. I now can see how, in the past, something like this might have set in motion a spiral of self-criticism. And so I put my checklist in reverse, came to terms with a few hours of delay, and took Walie on a long, chilly walk around Bellevue Cemetery.

Today’s sight bite— Muted tones of stone the same colors as the variegated sky —c-l-i-c-k— constituting rows of aged grave markers in a sea of desaturated grass.

Tomorrow— The Monday discipline is applied again in earnest . . .