Archive for March, 2006

v i c t o r y

Friday, March 31st, 2006

March experiment—day thirty— As the announcer used to say on the program called “Iron Chef,” the battle is oh-vah!

Because the competition was with myself, I won—that means I also lost, but only the counterproductive habit patterns that were due to permanently go. The transformation feels vast, but I’m still too close to all I’ve been through to judge the full effects. Everything has culminated with the creation of my prototype for a personalized commemorative illustration. Tonight it will be unveiled before members of The Wood Duck Society, and then tomorrow it will be presented for target-market evaluation at a fundraising dinner—the Kentuckiana Chapter of Safari Club International in Louisville. By Sunday I’ll be in a better position to begin reflecting on these past few weeks.

Goin’ a little crazy ain’t too bad

Thursday, March 30th, 2006

This is how day twenty-nine has gone…

5:30 am — Is this what it feels like to go mad?

6:47 am — Am I on solid ground here, or am I out of my mind?

9:20 am — This will work. I’m a genius!

2:43 pm — This is absurd. What am I doing to myself?

4:02 pm — God, it would be so cool to do this every day.

7:58 pm — Wow. Maybe I’m really going to pull this off.

Uncharted territory

Wednesday, March 29th, 2006

March experiment—day twenty-eight— I’m sprinting for Friday’s deadline, with a totality of attention to my example of “Legacy Art,” and bringing into focus all the sensitivities of my month-long self-study…

I know I can do this

Tuesday, March 28th, 2006

Now that I’ve learned the lesson not to worry about something that isn’t in front of me, I have to learn something more difficult, and that’s how to avoid spinning my emotional wheels with the real task that is in front of me, to stop fretting about how it will turn out and to promptly start making the first permanent marks on top of the sketch that will be erased. This might be the most critical habit I can develop, but it will require vanquishing another that has been on my back for most of my life, and I’m sick and tired of it…

Begin!

From Hell, to the Swaziland frontier, and on to Heaven

Monday, March 27th, 2006

March experiment—day twenty-six— Some days start out bad and get worse. Today started out awful, but improved dramatically by evening. I feel fortunate. There were times when a morning like today’s might gnaw at me for a long time. It may seem obvious, but if you wake up to a spoiled serving, you need to deal with it head on, rather than letting it just sit there and rot.

Today’s sight bite— My smiling friend, with an African tracker and 1906 Oberndorf Mauser—c-l-i-c-k—proudly displaying his trophy impala in the harsh KwaZulu-Natal landscape.

Tomorrow— An early checklist of leftovers, to make way for a full day with the pen and brush…

Now and at the hour of our victory

Sunday, March 26th, 2006

March experiment—day twenty-five— I spent my 30 minutes of silence at Mack’s increasingly dilapidated cabin praying fervently for my uncle, who’s fighting his way back from critical care, so he can get the heart surgery he desperately needs.

I ran back to Danville afterwards, just as I had run the five miles out to the cabin, but my legs became alarmingly stiff at nine miles or so and I had to walk a bit. I smiled to think that only a few minutes before I’d been advising J M on how to accomplish his 50-miler next month. Obviously, I’m no ultra-marathoner these days. When I mentioned it to Dana at breakfast she reminded me that it’s been four years since I did mine. True enough.

After the silence, our friend J R (Buck) shared eloquent words about how an aging athlete faces the traumatic decline of the physical body. Fortunately I have no experience with this subject, so far. Uncle Joe does—more than he deserves.

For decades, there was no greater advocate for physical fitness in Southwestern Ohio than Joe Sullivan. He’s had a positive influence on hundreds of educators and literally thousands of young people. He introduced things like tumbling mats and trampolines to the region and designed numerous state-of-the-art gymnasiums. And that doesn’t even touch on his contributions to coaching or his achievements as a college professor. You would think that he’d earned some points that would spare him the pain and indignity of a physical breakdown—he of all people, but it looks as though the Lord makes no such deals. Grace, on the other hand, is another issue.

I will continue to pray the Hail Mary for Uncle Joe.

Today’s sight bites— The march of ditch clutter, to the lower left of my stride, a parade of Newport packs and green Mountain Dew bottles—c-l-i-c-k—Little Caesar’s cartons—c-l-i-c-k—blue Bud Light cans—c-l-i-c-k—Long John Silver’s boxes—c-l-i-c-k—red McDonalds French-fry pockets—c-l-i-c-k—Arby’s bags—c-l-i-c-k—dip containers, soda straws, and orange candy wrappers—c-l-i-c-k—with the helpless notion that I should at the very least interpret all this as an artistic statement, an homage to Kurt Schwitters called Scenic Kentucky Highway 52

Tomorrow— Drawing a good friend in Africa, plus an important call to Virginia (the Mother of Presidents, not Mombo—the Mother of Me—although that’s not a bad idea)…

On the 6th day of spring

Saturday, March 25th, 2006

March experiment—day twenty-four— I rescheduled my ten-miler when I arose to discover a steady shower of wet sleet at first light. Well, at least I didn’t have more than my hopes invested in the proposed venture, unlike other ambitious people. I may be bonkers, but I’m not a madman. Not yet, anyway. However, I do recall running in worse weather during the winter of oh-two. A local man stopped his car and yelled, “You’ve got to be crazy to run in this!” I shouted back, “You’ve got to be crazy to drive in this!”

Today is about dealing efficiently with a multiple of tasks recently sidelined by a critical deadline, which naturally tends to subordinate other priorities. It’s about breaking a habit—temporarily letting go of my discipline or indulging an escape after a major presentation, instead of shifting the same level of focus to a new area of active creativity. Maintaining a momentum of accomplishment is a more desirable reward, if a reward is necessary. I’m tired of having to regain my inertia over and over again. I’d rather keep a more even pace of achievement. I’ve learned this from exercise, but the idea has taken on a new power for me, the more I pay attention to the advice of artists who know how to routinely get things done.

Last night before bed I spent time with Kazu’s description of how he creates his “Copper” strip. This morning I’m “mining” an interview with Arundhati Roy. Some of her thoughts fascinate me because I’m trying to find a way through the challenge of shifting my fine art from a gift-oriented activity to a more self-centric ambition, in order to professionalize it within a desired array of income modules. For reasons unclear, I’ve been getting more out of listening closely to writers and filmmakers (and a dancer!) than I get out of listening to designers or visual artists.

“You know, I always believed that even among the best writers, there are selfish writers and there are generous ones. Selfish writers leave you with the memory of their book. Generous writers leave you with the memory of the world they evoked. To evoke a world, to communicate it to someone, is like writing a letter to someone that you love. It’s a very thin line. For me, books are gifts. When I read a book, I accept it as a gift from an author. When I wrote this book, I presented it as a gift. The reader will do with it what they want.”

Roy’s keen insight applies to all the fine arts—in my case, the applied arts. If I’m to be honest with myself, it’s my identity as an illustrator that I seek to define, rather than as a true fine artist, at least in the near term. Earning commissions for the type of imagery I intend to create involves meaningful service to a customer, and so I must juggle my own artistic agenda while capturing a high level of personal significance for my client—balancing the selfish with the generous—providing pleasure in the sense of legacy, a useful satisfaction. Emerson often draws his distinction between the fine and the “useful” arts, but makes clear that both can lead to wealth.

Why is it that I’ve been more comfortable with dedicated effort toward seizing health and less so with wealth? Is it just cultural conditioning or is it part of my DNA? I wanted health, so I built it into my body. It took time, but I did it. I have goals that require a solid microeconomic platform. Forget wealth. I would hope that I could just free myself from the low-grade financial stress that erodes well-being. But Emerson doesn’t dance euphemistically around the issue. He uses the word.

“Wealth is in application of mind to nature; and the art of getting rich consists not in industry, much less in saving, but in a better order, in timeliness, in being at the right spot.

Indeed. Let’s get back to the drill.

Today’s sight bite— Afternoon sunlight cuts across a wall the color of thick mucous, as my paint-saturated roller subtracts the distasteful hue—c-l-i-c-k—with white, glorious white, overtaking the wall, swath by swath.

Tomorrow— Running toward the dawn, to share the silence with friends…

Milestones vs withered koans

Friday, March 24th, 2006

March experiment—day twenty-three— It’s taken me three weeks to zero in on hidden patterns of thought and feeling engraved deeply in the way I prepare for a presentation. These are inner habits rooted in college-era indoctrination. Now I’m beginning to understand that one must not only compartmentalize goal-oriented activity, but also the emotional content associated with specific areas of focus. There is room for concern, expectation, intensity, and enthusiasm with respect to the challenge at hand, but not for worthless anxiety about what is not getting accomplished in other areas of life, no matter how important or necessary it may be. The energy conserved can be used for creativity and poise, the best prerequisites for moving forward on schedule to the next priority.

Today’s sight bite— The geometric designs of his bright red sleeveless sweater—c-l-i-c-k—as our client forms his first impressions of the visual concepts before him on the conference table.

Tomorrow— Ten miles on foot at dawn, Band Festival ideas, new branding for swim attire, and a date with the vacuum cleaner…

Million Dollar Babies and Fifty Cent Maybes

Thursday, March 23rd, 2006

March experiment—day twenty-two— When I got back from the gym, I finally finished resolving Tuesday’s surprise request, and shoved it over the wire with a sense of relief. Then I was able to settle back into designing the equine symbology, benefiting from Dana’s help and a bit of synchronicity when the realization struck that it’s never too late to revisit research mode if things get into a rut. Twyla writes about this in her book. By afternoon I had a new momentum of progress. She knows everything!

Today’s sight bite— Freezing a noisy blur with eye and hand—c-l-i-c-k—as gloved fists strike the black speed bag.

Tomorrow— A client’s reaction, after a kick to the finish line…

Why I never throw anything away

Wednesday, March 22nd, 2006

March experiment—day twenty-one— Having my morning schedule play out with precision was a source of encouragement, but that was followed by another chaotic stint in the studio. That’s what happens when a client calls and asks you to work with ten-year-old files as if they were created last week. Nevertheless, there were solid insights to gain from the contrast of an impending deadline and the all-too-typical, wild-card elements that seem to inevitably insert themselves into the day. Well, I don’t remember which famous general said that even the best battle plan doesn’t survive first contact with the enemy, but the last couple days have driven home the point for me. Not that my clients are the enemy—far from it—but you’ll probably catch my train of thought. The focus of my 30-day experiment is enabling me to examine dynamics that have always been too obvious to scrutinize. Interesting.

Today’s sight bite— Taking a mental break with page after page of exquisite narrative graphics—c-l-i-c-k, c-l-i-c-k, c-l-i-c-k—temporarily immersed in the flowing talent of Rudolphe Guenoden, Kazu Kibuishi, Giuseppe Ferrario, Chris Appelhans, Justin Ridge, and Herval.

Tomorrow— Mares and foals… foals and mares…

It’s not failure unless I quit

Tuesday, March 21st, 2006

March experiment—day twenty— Interruptions and the unexpected can be accommodated by the daily structure. The strength of the matrix is flexibility and routine in proportion. Move relentlessly forward with diligence and focus, balanced by the softness of each breath.

Today’s sight bite— Cold worm on the wet sidewalk—c-l-i-c-k—a gummy worm, to be precise.

Tomorrow— Everything that has come before can illuminate a new cycle. Look to the ritual…

Lion’s snarl

Monday, March 20th, 2006

A March backlash mirrored my studio whirlwind inside, as I hit the “wall” at mile 19 — I mean day 19.

This is when you just keep putting one foot in front of the other…

On the eighteenth day

Sunday, March 19th, 2006

…we rest.

Hey, it’s a hey

Saturday, March 18th, 2006

March experiment—day seventeen— It was a physically active day, which, after my morning run, I spent mostly outdoors. Our yard is a mess because 2005 didn’t lend itself to fooling around with the hedges and flower beds. Across the street, workers were removing the stained glass windows from the Baptist church in preparation for its demolition. JT told me that he won’t know whether we can get the surplus stone for my driveway concept until the Library board takes possession. The month of May seems awfully close in time, and I hope I can be ready to keep my end of the proposition. I couldn’t believe how fast those guys up on the cherry picker were working—real professionals. That must be an expensive contract.

I spent an hour or so away from my chores by going out to Chrisman Lane with Dan. We picked up litter as part of our “Friends of Mack Jackson” Adopt-A-Highway project. The two of us “drew a short straw” with our task of clearing a steep embankment of trash. It’s always tough to confront how disgustingly negligent people can be, but Mack would be happy with the effort of our informal group. If we keep after it on a regular basis, it shouldn’t be this bad again, I would hope.

I was worn out by the time Dana and I arrived at the English Country Dance with Lee and David, but it was a delightful event—even more enjoyable than the first time. It’s not something I’d want to do that often, but I’m starting to appreciate the simple, wholesome joy of it, and you can’t knock a Berea potluck spread. Yum.

Today’s sight bite— A misty Angus snout bursts with the luminous backlight of sunrise—c-l-i-c-k—as dark gray, plank-fence patterns and long, tree-shadow brushstrokes move rhythmically underfoot.

Tomorrow— Spend some overdue time with the Marty-Man, and slow down a bit before Monday hits like a whirlwind…

2nd half, 2nd wind

Friday, March 17th, 2006

March experiment—day sixteen— Woke up thinking I needed to dissolve last night’s angst about how I chaired the steering group meeting. Rather than stew about it, I trusted the “in-nerd” and resolved it by 7 am with a note to the guys who were there. Simple—thank them and pledge to do better. You wouldn’t think that I’d be figuring these things out at age 53, but there it is.

On our way to and from the Rotary lunch, David and I nailed down our strategy for promoting my pen and wash commissions. The timetable will be a bit of a crunch, but it dovetails with the home stretch of my prevailing time-management experiment.

Had some major breakthroughs on the equine graphics this week, so I locked myself into a presentation next Friday. The practice of self-imposed deadlines is a delicate art. Too far out is another form of procrastination, but too soon can invite disaster. Exactly right is a proven stimulant to creative productivity and concept integration. I don’t always get it right, but I’m a believer. If you don’t have an external due date, you have to create your own. Sadly, I have a wealth of experience trying to avoid what should be a self-evident truth.

After my conversation with Dr. Williams, a wave of fatigue came crashing in from behind me and I had to nap before Dana’s tasty fish-with-wild-rice supper.

Today’s sight bite— A Martini rifle, a walking horse, a hunter and his warthog, ten smiling handgun competitors—c-l-i-c-k, c-l-i-c-k, c-l-i-c-k—a flurry of digital images that etch the memory.

Tomorrow— Nine-mile run at daybreak, yard work, house cleaning, fine art, and English country dancing…

A different stroke for a diffident bloke

Thursday, March 16th, 2006

March experiment—day fifteen— Took a break after 20 laps and caught some rays on the deck next to the natatorium. I wasn’t expecting the sun to nullify the breeze, so I found it to be surprisingly comfortable for the few minutes I spent outside. The pool felt warm when I first got back in the water and soon finished up with 33 total laps—a perfect workout.

When I got back to the studio, I was able to find my way through a difficult juncture with the Burkmann equine symbology, even though I felt thoroughly stumped before my midday swim. Dr. Williams has set the bar rather high on this assignment, and I’m trying to avoid taking a “safe” approach. I wish it was self-confidence that drives me to employ a challenging design method, but I suppose it’s just fear of mediocrity.

Tonight’s brainstorming session with five other avid cyclists was moving along nicely until I let the meeting become diffused and run too long. I still have so much to learn about efficient meeting leadership, and I wonder if I’ll ever gain that valuable skill.

Today’s sight bite— Treating my eyes to a crocus bed of purple, white, and yellow splashes—c-l-i-c-k—before looking up to see bare-arm walkers and a ’57 Chevy Bel Air cruise by. (Don’t tell anyone in Punxsutawney, but spring arrived in Danville, Kentucky on March 16th.)

Tomorrow— Complete the Salvation Army stationery and invitation letter for April’s annual event…

Trusting my inner nerd

Wednesday, March 15th, 2006

March experiment—day fourteen— Up before the alarm, with my mind too full of typography to postpone the opening ritual. Did I really think I could write and design a point-of-purchase promotion for “Share the Road” and circulate it among the Commissioners before 9 am? Not really. Didn’t think. Just set to work, to short-circuit the doubt.

To just begin, and trust the habit of creation.

“Finished is better than perfect.” Spoken inside without fear, these words from Gene Johnson—who may have swiped them—can be a certain kind of victory for me today.

Tonight’s Kirov concert was a lesson in contrasts. Tchaikovsky’s D major Violin Concerto with Mikhail Simonyan, followed by the Shostakovich 10th. Who wouldn’t find delight in the former? But, if you appreciate a brand of music decidedly in the “spooky” vein, you might prefer the latter.

Today’s sight bite— A carpet of emerald clippings under a sculpted yew—c-l-i-c-k—and the rusted tines of a familiar rake.

Tomorrow— Halfway through the experiment, it’s time to ratchet up my focus in the studio, and to lead a strategic discussion with local cyclists later in the day…

You can’t take the sky from me

Tuesday, March 14th, 2006

March experiment—day thirteen— Today’s dramatic change in weather makes me realize I got just what I wished for. Hmmm—perhaps, while I’m on a roll…

A few interesting things happened today. I was happy to get back from the gym in time to catch Junger’s interview on C-SPAN, and it made for some good breakfast viewing. Although I’ve broken my habit of watching early morning television, this was a worthwhile aberration. I share with him a special concern for the Afghan people that goes back to the 80s, when friends and I met with Mujahideen representatives during their stay in Dayton. I can’t like a journalist as much as I like Junger unless I trust that person’s instincts, and for some reason I completely trust this guy to get exactly the right take on whatever he observes. So now I’ll have to go find a copy of “Vanity Fair.” This afternoon I had a crucial discussion with Wilma at the Community Arts Center about raising my profile as an artist, and her advice may prove invaluable. The most stimulating thing is how much it coincides with some of the suggestions and encouragement I’ve gotten from David. A daunting transition, to be sure, but one that I must initiate in the near term. Stay tuned.

Today’s sight bite— Flags snapping on the Salvation Army pole against a field of midday blue—c-l-i-c-k—the kind of pure, deep shade that invigorates my soul.

Tomorrow— Conference call with KBBC Commissioners, trip to the courthouse to pick up my “Share the Road” license plate, and an evening of Russian music…

Don’t go back to grey days; try to find some better ways

Monday, March 13th, 2006

March experiment—day twelve— This dismal weather is starting to get to me. I’d rather be forced to wear a heavy coat and gloves, if it would get me a blue sky. Continued to use my time matrix to chip away at projects, not all of them money-makers. Took the equine-packaging job from sketches to electronics this afternoon and that’s an important step. After five o’clock, I tried to finish cleaning up the front yard, but it started to rain. Didn’t that happen yesterday? Tonight I sat down again with “FLIGHT, Volume Two.” This collection doesn’t seem as awesome to me as Volume One, but I’m enjoying it immensely. That’s just the way it is with sequels, I guess. I can’t help but observe how much some of these artists have been affected by the drawings of Bill Watterson. Reminds me of when I look at political cartoons and realize that an entire generation of editorial artists have been influenced by Mike Peters and Jeff MacNelly.

Today’s sight bite— Sky like a canopy of yellow-grey bruises—c-l-i-c-k—with a tree swaying the way a nervous man shifts his weight from one leg to another.

Tomorrow— Wake up to the stationery bike and another gym workout (try to catch
Sebastian Junger on “Washington Journal”), and then get in some billable time before the Salvation Army executive committee meets…

a no-sun day

Sunday, March 12th, 2006

March experiment—day eleven— The log entries have become more mundane, given the emphasis on my time management experiment, and it must mean I’m thinking less about this journal. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing. First things first. I suppose I could abandon the cyclic notes and post when the mood suits me, like other bloggers, but the daily ritual is important to me. Ritual is sovereign.

Today’s sight bite— A gun-barrel-grey vault above, smudged by Dawn’s pink thumb—c-l-i-c-k—as my blurred front tire dodges reflective puddles on the pavement below.

Tomorrow— Weekday regimen put to the test once more, to be gradually internalized as habit…

A Secret Garden of Mine

Saturday, March 11th, 2006

March experiment—day ten— Tackled the lopsided landscaping in front of the Town House porch (between thundershowers) for most of the day until it was time for our trip to Richmond. We had a pleasurable “first-date observation” at the Punjab, and then attended the St. Mark’s annual theatrical performance—my sister Joan’s last to organize there, before she moves on to new adventures.

Today’s sight bites— Pre-teen waiters with slabs of cake—c-l-i-c-k—greasepainted faces caught in a spotlight crossfire—c-l-i-c-k—button-breasted singing maidens—c-l-i-c-k—a wide-mouth “Master Colin”—c-l-i-c-k—and the joyful expression of a mentor surrounded by her proud students.

Tomorrow— Early morning ride to Mack’s cabin, as well as a few stubborn issues in the studio to solve…

Steady as she goes

Friday, March 10th, 2006

March experiment—day nine— An unremarkable yet productive Friday, with the new schedule beginning to feel like routine.

Today’s sight bite— The rolling pastures of Garrard County along Highway 52—c-l-i-c-k—ready to burst into verdant hues with a few more days of full sun.

Tomorrow— Solid day of activity, a delayed celebration, and my sister’s secret garden…