Saturday, October 24, 2009

Retro Art: All Is Vanity

A print of "All Is Vanity" by Charles Gilbert hung on my grandma's bedroom wall. It wasn’t just for Halloween, and it wasn't ironical. She was dead (ha) serious. The illustration dates from 1892.

This looks like a cheap knockoff of Gilbert's concept but that's only a guess.

This, I'm still guessing, is some kind of Old Master original drawing that predates both of them.

And this is a modern update of the Gilbert, by an artist known on Etsy.com as "sweetheartsinner."

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Game - Gum


Separated at Birth: An advertisement for a game, and Seattle's infamous Wall of Gum.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Recent Brags July 09


Allan Cole's Tales of the Blue Meanie has one of my paintings stretching all around the front and back cover.



In The Forensic Examiner, three of my online articles about the Tim Masters wrongful conviction case are quoted, and cited in the bibliography.

I know Todd Shimoda and Linda Shimoda too.


Some work I did for Patron Saint Productions was featured in their brochure

Veteran journalist Tim Van Schmidt runs a delightful version of the home-town paper at Fort Collins Life-Times, which has a cool page of my Fort Collins paintings.

The new Ace Backwords book, Acid Heroes. Edited and prepared for CreateSpace publication by Pat Hartman. Also, I designed the cover from the author's collage/sketch.



Sunday, May 17, 2009

Synchronicity #1


Around 1975, a friend gave me a stained-glass butterfly that she had made. I had it for about 25 years, and it shows up in a couple of my paintings, like this one, for instance.

But when I moved out of one place, I left the butterfly behind accidentally. (And left the painting behind, too, but that was on purpose.) Though my abandonment of the butterfly was unintentional, by the time I realized, it was too late to do anything about it.

Some butterfly-less years went by.

Within the past week, another woman friend who knew nothing about any of this, gave me a butterfly. It’s approximately the same size as the old butterfly, and although it’s made from thousands of beads, rather than sheets of glass, it is pretty much the same color scheme, some version of red and blue, and light shines through.

The two women who gave me these butterflies - both have the same first name.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Mama Said.....




This painting is by Dale Hartman. I don't know what he calls it.

I call it "Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This."


Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Leonard Cohen

Photo courtesy of Tim Van Schmidt -
see all his original concert photos at King Koncert


Celebrities I Almost Met:

What was Leonard Cohen doing in 1960? Trying to get an artistic grant from the Canada Council. According to biographer Ira Nadel in Leonard Cohen: A Life in Art, the poet "borrowed money to hire a limousine with a uniformed driver, and smoked marijuana with a friend in the back while cruising to Ottowa, and then 'terrorized' the Canada Council staff by chasing them about in a wheelchair, occasionally serenading the secretaries. His unorthodox visit resulted in funding....."

A few years later, in the Mediterranean area Cohen wrote the novel Beautiful Losers "in a frenzied, drug-induced state from which [he] required a twelve-day fast partially to recover; combined with a bad sunburn, however, this state led to exhaustion, a fever, intravenous feeding, and nearly two months of rest," Nadel says. There was also a complication in mailing the manuscript, because a close friend was arrested for hashish and brutalized by the Athens police. This was in 1965.

After he introduced Judy Collins to his song "Suzanne," he was visiting from Canada when she brought him onstage during a New York concert. He got partway through the first verse of a song, said "I can't do this," and left the stage. Over the subsequent years he became much more at ease in front of crowds. Still, he did take a long hiatus from performing, the source of one of the two biggest regrets of my life.

The first regret: Some time in the late 70s or early 80s, when Cohen lived at Big Bear, California, I went up there with a band who'd arranged to play at a club, a rough-hewn little roadhouse type of place. Life had been stressful lately, and I didn't even want to go in. Catching up on some sleep, in the car, seemed a much better option. Later, the guys told me Cohen had been in there and heard part of their set. He even liked the drummer's voice, which everybody in the band thought was awful. If I hadn't been zonked out in the back seat, I would have been in the damn club. Thus, Leonard Cohen became one of the celebrities I almost met.

The other regret came later, when I read about a concert Cohen booked at some famous old theater in the middle of Los Angeles. I thought about it wistfully, but there was money to think of too, and child care… Later, someone told me it had been Cohen's first concert in 12 years. If I'd realized it was such a rare event, I would have moved heaven and earth to get there. Dylan showed up, and several other top-level luminaries who would no more miss such a chance than they'd miss a visitarion from the Buddha. Spotlight on my ignorance, again.

Musician Neil Busch once said of Cohen, "He has influenced all songwriters who wish their lyrics to stand alone as poetry. He's less whimsical than Bob Dylan; his words strike a deeper chord on the gut strings of the soul."

Here's an inexplicable phenomenon: After the 9/11 event, Jeff Buckley's cover of Cohen's ineffable "Hallelujah" somehow came to be the unofficial official song of America's reaction. I don't see the connection at all, unless Buckley wrote all new lyrics or something. Strange thing is, many years ago Leonard Cohen also wrote a song called "First We Take Manhattan." It was written in the voice of, from the point of view of, an international terrorist, and with considerable empathy.

Photo courtesy of Tiago Pinhal via this Creative Commons license

RELATED:
Leonard Cohen at Red Rocks 2009
Leonard Cohen Quotations
Suzanne

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

I'm Dreaming of a GAPWIT Christmas


Redneck Christmas Tree
This is one of those things that fly around the email circuit. I condensed it and made a composite picture.


It reminds me of the Christmas Ladder. Dale Hartman and I had just moved to a new town, with no furniture, and our landlord left this item in the house for a while to help us get the place together. It worked fine as a seasonal decoration, too.


Making it Go Away
I knew a guy who, one year, had such an aversion to Christmas that he flew to Australia, crossing the International Date Line in such a way that, for him, there was no December 25th.

The Politically Correct Days of Christmas

This arrived in my email box last year, and I like it:

On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival, my Significant Other in a consenting adult, monogamous relationship gave to me:
TWELVE males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming,
ELEVEN pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for in their union contract even though they will not be asked to play a note),
TEN melanin deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal ruling class system leaping, NINE persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression,
EIGHT economically disadvantaged female persons stealing milk-products from enslaved Bovine-Americans,

SEVEN endangered swans swimming on federally protected wetlands,

SIX enslaved Fowl-Americans producing stolen non-human animal
products,
FIVE golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration, (NOTE: after members of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to throw red paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens and partridge have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid further Animal-American enslavement, the remaining gift package has been revised.)

FOUR hours of recorded whale songs

THREE deconstructionist poets

TWO Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree carcasses and...
ONE Spotted Owl activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.


Merry Christmas Happy Chanukah. Good Kwanzaa. Blessed Yule. Oh,
heck! Happy Holidays!!!! (unless otherwise prohibited by law)
*Unless, of course, you are suffering from Seasonally Affected Disorder (SAD). If this be the case, please substitute this gratuitous call for celebration with suggestion that you have a completely adequate day.

Another email thing: "Encounter"

And another: "Let me know your sizes - Christmas is tight this year."
How to make bedroom slippers out of maxi pads:
You need four maxis to make a pair.
Two of them get laid out flat, for the foot part. The other two wrap around the toe area to form the top. Tape or glue each side of the top pieces to the bottom of the foot part. Decorate the tops with whatever you desire, silk flowers, etc. These slippers are
*Soft and Hygienic
*Non-slip grip strips on the soles
*Built in deodorant feature keeps feet smelling fresh
*No more bending over to mop up spills
*Disposable and biodegradable
*Environmentally safe
*Three convenient sizes: Regular, Light day, and Get out the Sand Bags.

And some personal ones: a picture/song my daughter made when she was a kid.


Great-Grandpa's White Fruitcake Recipe
In this wicked world, fruitcake gets no respect. I've heard all the jokes about how the same gnarly fruitcake gets passed around from one person to the next, year after year. And its innocent name is a synonym for an unfortunate individual who is a few bricks shy of a load.

In Boulder they even have an annual Fruitcake Toss, with three weight classes and choice of propellant: physically hurl the poor fruitcake with your very own pitching arm; or use a throwing device of your own invention and construction; or load it into the Pneumatic Spud Gun; or utilize the committee's catapult. It's an event guaranteed to bring out the yokel in the local college students. This is sacrilege.

The past couple of years, because the candied fruit was half-price the day after Christmas, I made a huge batch of Great-Grandpa's White Fruitcake in the spring. We're not talking about commercial-grade fruitcake packed with mystery ingredients and horrid little hard things. What we're dealing with here is an old family recipe, one that originally resulted in a huge vat of batter - this was a professional baker, after all. Even the fractioned-down version makes quite a lot. And just between us, the whole process, from individually inspecting the raisins for stems, to testing for doneness, is pretty much a pain in the ass.

Yet and still, I feel that Great-Grandpa's recipe could rehabilitate the reputation of fruitcake overnight and take the nation by storm, the way Famous Amos chocolate chip cookies once did. Venture capitalists, call me!

TM Pie
Another family tradition, a thing my mother and grandmother occasionally made as a very special Christmas gift, is the TM Pie. Using a small disposable pie tin, you make a bottom crust and then fill the pie with crumpled tin foil to hold the lid up. Then fit a top crust over it, crimping them together. And don't forget to poke a fork through the surface, to let the steam out. After it's baked and cooled, take the top crust off and remove the padding. Inside, place a crisp new unit of currency. Put the lid back on, carefully place in a box, and tie a ribbon around it. There's also a poem that goes with it, that I can't find, but it explains that this is a 'Tis Money Pie.

Most Enchanting Christmas Memory
It was a large but non-alcoholic and non-noisy party, sponsored by the workplace. Spouses were invited, and in some cases it was the only time they were seen all year. There was a guy everybody liked who brought his wife, a troubled woman who was frankly kind of problematic to relate to. And it was known to be a troubled marriage. They had a reason to leave early, but just before they reached the door, she turned around and said, "I want to sing a song for you." With no accompaniment she sang "O Holy Night" and it was pure magic. Absolutely splendid. And then they left.

And my all-time favorite amongst those things that circulate around the Web: the all-purpose greeting card