Posts Tagged ‘artist depression freelance illustration neuopathy pain persistence’

Newer Entries »

Chronicles in Ordinary Time 15: wormholes

March 26, 2012

I spent [wisely] several hours today watching the Science Channel’s “Through the Wormhole;” an overview of quantum physics, cosmology, astrophysics and the history of modern science. I don’t have any other space images in my collection of illustrations…

As they were growing up, I advised my kids of a saying I learned in my ‘hippie’ days [I can remember the 60’s & 70’s; consequently I wasn’t really there]. “Whatever you own, owns you.” This includes the ownership of indebtedness. If my life had been different, I would be ‘semi-retired’ by choice, at this time rather than by circumstance of economy.  My 14 years with the City were an investment I didn’t understand, and keeps a roof over our heads during this uncertain time. Nonetheless, my indebtedness means my wife and I still need to be employed, rather than enjoying the early retirement of some of my colleagues.

If I had the time to create the illustrations I want to create, instead of focusing my time on trolling Craigslist, I’d have more ‘space’ images.  I loved science fiction novels growing up; now I enjoy [some] sci-fi movies; I can go through a story in two hours. My current reading is classic novels, and they take a long time, due to the  limited amount of time I allocate for recreational reading.

A lot of religious folk get really spooked by cosmology. They’ve been taught to read the Bible as a literal textbook for science and history; rather than as a journal of the Eternal’s interactions with a family line of humans. The Richard Dawkins’ of the world find solace in mathematics and physics; and decide that since they find evidence that the universe can exist without a Creator, it must be so. ‘The need for a Creator’ coming from propaganda. I look at cosmology as an attempt by very finite, very limited human beings to understand the language of the Infinite and Eternal Creator of everything. A mentor of mine taught me that the Bible is, in reality, God’s ‘baby talk’ for his ignorant children.  I’ve never understood the Eternal to be some sort of ancient grandfather figure who occasionally entertains his descendents with magic. That’s probably because I had a personal encounter with the Creator during a period when I was in my twenties; and everything since then has been the ‘acquisition of background’ more than following parental teaching. I had none.

So, I’m fascinated with astrophysics and cosmology. I’m also fascinated with theology. Moses Maimonides, a Jewish rabbi of the 12th Century, taught that, at the Beginning,  all of the material in Creation was condensed by the Eternal into the space of a mustard seed; and was rapidly ejected outward into the heavens. The Expanding Universe, 400 years before Galileo. Maimonides found this information in his extensive study of Holy Torah. He also taught that the first letter of Torah, in Hebrew was closed in the backward direction; there was no reason to seek out what happened before Creation. He hadn’t run into many modern cosmologists.

I’m revisiting Stargate SG-1; a sci-fi show of the nineties[?]. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed the series. And I enjoy the references to Star Trek and Star Wars. I’m continually impressed at the way that science fiction and science fact interact and depend upon each other.

“Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in thee..” Augustine

Tags:, , , , ,
Posted in art, careers, children's books, depression, Illustration, neuropathy, pain, self-employment, Uncategorized | 11 Comments »

Chronicles in Ordinary Time 14: the right thing to do

March 12, 2012

I’m a fan of [some] Samurai and Kung Fu movies… Japanese/Chinese Westerns. Unlike American Westerns, in these movies, the hero usually dies.
Today I watched Mibu gishiden / 壬生義士 / “When the last sword is drawn”; a story set in the late 1800’s, near the end of the Shogun period of Japanese history, when the Emperor was gaining power. In many ways the story has similarities to “The Last Samurai” in that it deals with the change from traditional Japanese life to the transition into the Age of the West. Interestingly, in an interview with the author of the novel from which the movie was made, he said that he wrote the story, in part, to remind his countrymen that they were still Japanese. “Sometimes I think we are half-American.”

The story tells of the Shinsengumi, described by the author as ‘dropout’ Samurai–mercenaries protecting the Shogun; and in particular, “Kanichiro Yoshimura, a Samurai and Family man who can no longer support his wife and children on the the low pay he receives from his small town clan. He is forced by the love for his family to leave for the city in search of higher pay to support them…” [C. Maginnis ]
Despised by his clan, the story tells of how he is truly an honorable man.

I enjoy these stories involving violent men and women, not for the violence, but for their stories of honor, bravery, sacrifice and decency. Stories that tell of the importance of tradition, family and keeping one’s word.

I also love the craftsmanship found in the sets for these stories. In my other life as an architectural/Code consultant, I recently had the pleasure of visiting a Historic Federal building in Old Town; a building that was clearly built in a different age; the ‘age of decoration’. Standing on the roof of the building, near a section where a higher roof overlapped; I saw that on the underside of this roof overhang, 4ft above the roof I stood upon, where only maintenance people would ever see, were cast ‘rosettes’ about a foot in diameter. I’m always amazed/intrigued when I see carving on the roofs of tall, old buildings. Decorations placed where few will ever notice. Placed there because it was the right thing to do.

I spent several hours on Thursday, Friday and the weekend editing and re-editing a video ad that should have only taken a few hours to complete. It took me 5 [delivered] tries to get it right [many more, undelivered]; and demonstrated to myself that it’s possible to go from moderately skilled to inept, in a matter of several months of inactivity. On my last delivery, I told the client to ignore my bill, because I was embarrassed by my performance. I expected the job to pay me for two hours of time; it probably took 10 or more. He offered to pay me for an additional two hours, so I delivered a larger bill with my 4th try, finished at 4:30a yesterday. While I remember watching the 4-part, minute-long promotional ad, I somehow missed the fact that I had put part 4 at the beginning as well as at the end. So I ended up sending the clientt a larger bill for something that wasn’t even acceptable…

I decided, when I was younger, that when I got older, I wouldn’t be one of those people who complain about their health all the time. So I avoid telling people much about this *interesting* time of my life. At the same time, I try to live transparently, and in such a manner that I can offer some wisdom [which only comes from experience, which mostly comes from lack of wisdom]. 80-90% of my sensory nerves are gone. My motor nerves seem to mostly be unaffected, but my brain has to work overtime to enable me to keep my balance, and other details. As much as I hate to admit it, I think the stress of my new life causes me to lose focus more than I’d like. I have more trouble finding words, and being able to express words, than I did a year ago. I make mistakes I didn’t make a year ago…

It would be ‘easy’ to simply quit, and decide I just couldn’t cut it any longer. I have a small pension, the equivalent of a low-paying job. And a really large debt load from 12 years of self-employment, most of them pre-pension. In many ways it would be ‘easy’ to just  idle away my hours watching movies all day. To do that would be [in my eyes] dishonoring me, dishonoring my family and dishonoring my Creator [not necessarily in that order]. I believe that my Creator loves me in spite of my failures and successes; I am blessed to have a family that believes similarly. Then there’s that other guy, the one in the mirror. He is the hardest to please. Fortunately, he was shown Grace and Forgiveness a few decades ago.

Prayer, Placebo or Prozac? I was diagnosed as ‘clinically depressed’ back in the nineties; but was either not offered a medical alternative; or was too proud to admit that it could help. I’ve finished my first week on Prozac, in theory too soon to expect much improvement. Last Thursday was the first ‘good’ day I’ve had in months. I still had all of my aches, pains and losses, but they were easier to bear/I had more energy. There are a lot of people who have me on their prayer lists. Improvement from the expectation of a pill’s working is a known medical phenomenon. Friday and Saturday were ‘new normal’–uncomfortable, but not crummy; as the last months have been.

All of this  brings me back to hero movies. Examples that show there are some things worth sacrificing one’s life for. Reminders that struggle can be worth the pain it causes. Reminders that it’s worthwhile to live for something larger than me.

 

 

 

 

 

Tags:, , , , , ,
Posted in art, careers, children's books, depression, Illustration, neuropathy, pain, self-employment, Uncategorized | Comments Off on Chronicles in Ordinary Time 14: the right thing to do

Chronicles in Ordinary Time 13: the predicament of nuclear man

February 27, 2012

Today is my 39th Re-Birthday.

The first part of Henri Nouwen’s “The Wounded Healer” [The Search of Nuclear Man] describes my theological quest for meaning in life: “When we look around us we see man paralyzed by dislocation and fragmentation, caught in the prison of his own mortality. However, we also see exhilarating experiments of living by which he tries to free himself of the chains of his own predicament, transcend his mortal condition, reach beyond himself, and experience the source of a new creativity.”
Using Nouwen’s categories, I was a Mystic in a time of theRevolutionaries during the first half ‘the seventies’. Too bound by my upbringing to truly become a Revolutionary–I considered emigrating to Canada to avoid the Draft, but didn’t have the nerve. I was ‘saved’ by a very high draft number. Had I been born 4-6 hours earlier in my 10-month gestation, I would have probably become a 2nd Lieutenant in Vietnam, with a 20-minute life expectancy. I had no religious beliefs nor upbringing, so I could not become a conscientious objector; even though that was an appropriate definition.

I came to life in college.
I really have very few memories from childhood. Memories from our family cabin on the Sandy River, near Brightwood, Oregon. Some hormonal experiences/dreams. Some boring trips to my grandmother’s house in Condon, Oregon. Memories of my Grandparents’ house. Helping my ‘Grandfather’ [great uncle] build their last house. Riding my bicycle/jumping off of my bicycle onto our lawn. Playing in the back yard of my across-the-street neighbor/best friend, Bobby. There are more memories from high school, although not a lot. Memories of my best friend, Pete; and my other best friend, Mark. Pete remains on the periphery of my life; Bobby and Mark are absent.
For many years, I felt as though I could clearly remember every day of my two years at Oregon State. Discovery. The beginnings of an understanding of who I am. Chronic despondency. Hours and hours in my darkened room, listening to the dreary music of Rod McKuen and other folksingers who saw the problems of life, but had few suggestions for improving the situation.
“In the absence of clear boundaries between himself and his milieu, between fantasy and reality, between what to do and what to avoid, it seems that [he] has become a prisoner of the now, caught in the present without meaningful connections with his past or future. When he goes home he feels that he enters a world which has become alien to him. The words his parents use, their questions and concerns, their aspirations and worries, seem to belong to another world, with another language and another mood. When he looks into his future everything becomes one big blur, an impenetrable cloud. He finds no answers to questions about why he lives and where he is heading. [He] is not working hard to reach a goal, he does not look forward to the fulfillment of a great desire, nor does he expect that something great or important is going to happen. He looks into empty space and is sure of only one thing: If there is anything worthwhile in life it must be here and now.”

At University of Oregon I encountered The Eternal. I lived across the hall from two of those ‘annoying Christians,’ who in time, became close friends; Brad remains my spiritual ‘father/big brother’. After months of asking, I finally agreed to go with them to their Sunday night meal and Bible study at the pastor’s house. One gathering sticks in my mind; the group was kneeling in a circle at the end of the evening, praying; and I realized that these people were not delusional, they actually were in contact with someone I did not know, nor had ever heard about.
“For the mystic as well as for the revolutionary, life means breaking through the veil covering our human existence and following the vision that has become manifest to us. Whatever we call this vision-“The Holy,” “The Numinon,” “The Spirit,” or “Father”-we still believe that conversion and revolution alike derive their power from a source beyond the limitations of our own createdness.”

While I consider today to be the anniversary of my rebirth, it really didn’t happen on an individual day. It probably started in my second year at Oregon State, when I told my good friend, Jeff, to quit bugging me about his newly-found belief in Jesus: the story of the druggie that had an overnight conversion and became a street preacher. Our 2am sessions in the dorm hallway, Jeff singing Crosby, Stills and Nash in a voice like Neil Young; and then singing strange Christian songs in the same voice. He moved his ministry to University of Oregon after I wrote  a lonely letter describing my living among strangers. The conversion process continued actively for my next three years at U of O and my first couple years after college. By the time I was 28 I was indelibly altered.

After nearly 50 years of an artist’s life, I really can’t find a single image that represents my coming to faith. Which is probably why I consider myself an illustrator rather than an artist. I don’t do well with creating abstract images; and the conversion to faith is an abstract process. The Apostle Paul’s description of life as a battle may have something to do with my fascination with Asian martial arts movies, even though I’m a pacifist. One of the reasons I could not honestly become a member of the Society of Friends [Quakers]; even though their beliefs are probably more along the lines of my own than the conventional Protestant church.

“…and the monstrous creatures of whales” [below] probably represents my faith most adequately, although I really don’t know why.  The Eternal cannot be described in an image; the wonder of Creation can perhaps best be described by the ocean of the South Pacific [I’m not familiar with the South Atlantic]. Warm, teaming with life, teaming with Wonder. I invested two years of my life creating the full-size image from which the image below is derived; in the *interesting* nature of my life, I can’t justify the expense of printing the image in its glory…

Tags:, , , , , , , ,
Posted in art, careers, children's books, depression, Illustration, neuropathy, pain, self-employment, Uncategorized | 5 Comments »

Chronicles in Ordinary Time 12: to tame the savageness of man

February 6, 2012

A friend of mine posted an article on Facebook, an analysis of the Republican Party and it’s apparent trend toward Social Darwinism. Along with the article was my friend’s comment: “who do we really turn to to resolve these issues?”

My reply: “God help us, I’m not sure they are in politics, yet. Maybe they’ll arrive sometime in the future. To me, at this point in time, it seems like, ‘endure, and survive’.”

I watched the movie “Bobby” this evening, written and directed by Emilio Estevez. Emilio  shook Bobby’s hand at the age of 5, and it forever changed Emilio’s life.

I’d forgotten…

There was a time; there was a champion, beloved and respected by many. He was bringing people of all colors and creeds together; with hope for a new beginning.
His father called him the ‘runt’ of the Kennedy clan. US Attorney General under his brother’s Presidency, he was known by most people, and he was disliked by many in ‘the Establishment’. The Senator from New York was not expected to follow in his brother’s footsteps; but he felt a call to speak for a new time…

“If we believe that we, as Americans, are bound together by a common concern for each other, then an urgent national priority is upon us. We must begin to end the disgrace of this other America. And this is one of the great tasks of leadership for us, as individuals and citizens this year. But even if we act to erase material poverty, there is another greater task, it is to confront the poverty of satisfaction—purpose and dignity—that afflicts us all. Too much and for too long, we seemed to have surrendered personal excellence and community values in the mere accumulation of material things.** ”

I was 15 when Bobby was assassinated. I was fairly oblivious. A classmate in high school was devastated. I don’t remember his name, but he was an outspoken Protestant Irishman. I didn’t understand, nor did I care to understand his political beliefs; but his passion I have never forgotten.
Over the years, I have grown to understand Bobby’s significance in American history, and the loss we suffered. By the time I turned 18, three short years later, and was facing the Draft and probable end of my life in Vietnam, I was no longer oblivious.

I find, at this period of my life, I get angry during election years. I get angry at the political rhetoric; I get angry at the posturing; I get angry when I hear comments that seem to have no understanding of what I believe we are supposed to be as people.  I lean toward the Progressive Liberal side of the spectrum; mostly because of my understanding of the teachings of Jesus. The oddity of me calling myself a Progressive Liberal is that I’ve been a Republican for most of my life; a follower of Theodore Roosevelt and Abraham Lincoln–ardent Progressive Republicans. I’m currently a part of a church whose membership is largely made up of people from the other end of the political spectrum than I, who tend to be of the party affiliation that I’ve fled.
I dislike getting angry with comments from the people I attend church services with. I prefer the company of books and movies to the company of people; it’s an effort for me to be among people on a weekly basis. However, I know that my soul needs to associate with fellow Believers. As my life has become so closely involved with Bobby’s quotation from Aeschylus, I don’t know that I have gained that much wisdom from living a life filled with pain…and now a life where the ability to feel pain is continuing to diminish. I know, from my living among other Believers, that the Eternal inhabits prayer. The Eternal does not necessarily provide answers to prayer; but those who pray can become more.

I had hoped that the miraculous event that occurred in 2008 would perhaps usher in a New Time in America. It seems to have mostly intensified the America of my young adulthood. That “other America” Bobby spoke of. My children are all in the vicinity of their thirties–one side or the other– and I wonder if they will see the Arthurian vision of Camelot in their lifetimes…

The fictionalized character of busboy Juan Romero, who was holding Bobby’s hand when the Senator was shot in the Ambassador Hotel.

and thus ended the vision of Camelot for my generation.

**http://www.jfklibrary.org/Research/Ready-Reference/RFK-Speeches/Remarks-of-Robert-F-Kennedy-at-the-University-of-Kansas-March-18-1968.aspx

Tags:, , , , , , ,
Posted in art, careers, children's books, depression, Illustration, neuropathy, pain, self-employment, Uncategorized | 1 Comment »

Chronicles in Ordinary Time 11: they didn’t stop to think if they should

February 6, 2012

From the movie, “Jurassic Park”-
“I’ll tell you the problem with the scientific power you’re using here: it didn’t require any discipline to attain it. You read what others had done, and you took the next step. You didn’t earn the knowledge for yourselves, so you don’t take any responsibility for it. You stood on the shoulders of geniuses to accomplish something as fast as you could, and before you even knew what you had, you, you’ve patented it, and packaged it, you’ve slapped it on a plastic lunchbox, and now you’re selling it. Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could that they didn’t stop to think if they should. ”

I wonder if the Western World would be as excited to buy a new phone or a new computer device if they realized that a woman was raped in order for the device to be created; or that a child was enslaved; or a parent murdered in order for that electronic gadget to be created?

That’s what’s happening. Our modern electronic devices are made from minerals mined in places like Congo; and the mines are controlled by warlords who enslave their workers. You can view a video by Robin Wright [Princess Bride]:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4o2lElFzM0&sns=fb

Am I against progress, am I against computers and cell phones? No. I rely on computers to make my life [as I’ve currently defined it] work. I grew up before the personal computer did; I lived most of my life without them.

Do these electronic devices that serve us have to be built by the products of slavery? No.  Economic pressure can be exerted against the slaveholders to change the way they live.

William Wilberforce dedicated his life to the abolition of slavery in Britain. After decades of effort by Wilberforce and countless others, slavery was abolished. In the movie, “Amazing Grace,” the slavery being addressed was in the sugar trade–the life blood of British economy. Even if the wealthy businessmen of Britain were bothered by the abuse of human life [many did not consider Africans as human], they weren’t bothered enough to sacrifice their businesses. I haven’t studied the historical record to know whether the movie is accurate; what is accurate is that determined people can change society.

I hear the word “revolution” brought up more often when I discuss politics with people [something I rarely do]. I immediately think of arming bears [“the right to …”–think about it]; and of all of the unstable people I’ve met, holding AK-47s. A horrible thought.

“Revolution” does not have to come by way of weapons. Thanks to the internet, we live in a time of ‘instant communication’ and ‘social networking.’ Those who are alert have already seen how the ‘viral video’ can change policy. The “Occupy” movement has many detractors, but the movement has demonstrated that public policy can be modified, if those in power fear a danger to their pocketbook. Jesus said that our hearts will be where our treasure is found [Mt. 6:21]. We can change the hearts of tyrants by threatening their treasure.

Tags:, , , , , ,
Posted in art, careers, children's books, depression, Illustration, neuropathy, pain, self-employment, Uncategorized | Comments Off on Chronicles in Ordinary Time 11: they didn’t stop to think if they should

Chronicles in Ordinary Time 8: Making a difference

October 31, 2011

    For my nephew, the late Coast Guard Chief Petty Officer John F. Seidman. He and his crew of CG-1705 perished in a collision with a Marine Helicopter two years ago. A memorial service was held today in Sacramento, with the dedication of  memorial statue created in their honor.
http://www.d11.uscgnews.com/go/doc/823/1228847/

    Making a difference.
I think that’s what many, perhaps most, of us want to do with our lives. In the vast scheme of things, we want to leave a footprint that someone will find in the future. Someone will know that we were here.
Some of us live in, and for, our children. We will be remembered in our children.
Some of us live for a cause or a goal. To be successful at something or with something.
Some of us grow up believing that we were accidents, and have no purpose whatsoever. There are a zillion parents out there who either can’t conceive a child, or bring a child to term, or lose a child to accident or illness, shortly after they are born. I know a young couple who dearly want a child, but can’t bring a child into this world until two years after a kidney transplant; which isn’t ready to occur. I don’t know the numbers, but my understanding is that, globally, the odds of being born aren’t all that high.
I don’t believe that anyone born is an accident. I believe that we are each unique creations, the work of a loving Creator. As I write these words, I’m thinking of all the arguments against that last statement. “How could a loving God…” fill in the blank. I think, if we could have a two-way conversation with Jesus today, He might reply with a societal answer. “How could a loving society allow…” Not unlike Stephen Colbert commented a year or so ago:
http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/368914/december-16-2010/jesus-is-a-liberal-democrat

Our pastor told the story of Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia, who took over the courtroom of a judge in 1937 or thereabouts. One of the cases was the trial of a grandmother who stole a loaf of bread to feed her grandchildren. The Mayor allowed that he needed to follow the Law, so he fined the woman $10; and then paid the fine himself. However, he did not end there; in addition, he fined everyone in the courtroom $0.50, for living in a society that would allow conditions to exist, where a grandmother had to steal bread for her grandchildren. The Mayor sent the grandmother home with $47.50.

All of those who serve in the military, the police, are charged to serve the public; too often at the cost of their lives. Too often, in these times, this concept seems to have gotten lost.

Make a difference.

Tags:, , , ,
Posted in art, careers, children's books, depression, Illustration, neuropathy, pain, self-employment, Uncategorized | 2 Comments »

And when I run I feel His pleasure

September 26, 2011

From “Chariots of Fire”:
“I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure. ” Eric Liddell

I spent my Sunday evening watching “Chariots of Fire” and “Inspector Lewis.” Both sets of stories talk about faith, and the lack thereof. I came to faith in my twenties, never having darkened the door of a church sanctuary. Thirty-eight years later, the gift of faith is still a mystery to me. Some have been given the gift, others have not…

The above illustration is part of a promotional image I did several years ago, reworked tonight. It’s the only “Chariots” sort of image in my portfolio. I used to think that in being an illustrator, I would have time to draw whatever I wanted, all the time. The truth in my life is that I usually only get to draw the things that I’m hired to draw, or things that I hope will help get me hired. The rest of the time I’m working at my ‘day job’–Building Code consulting– or looking for illustration jobs.

I usually have a long-term project that I’m working on; the last one took nearly three years to finish [partial below]. It’s still not really finished–in a static sense–I tweak it frequently, trying to get all of the details more correct, or changing the components. All of my digital illustrations are in Photoshop layers–the digital version of the cels [celluloid, a clear plastic] that the Disney Studio made famous. Images created on transparent layers that can be moved, adjusted, and if done properly, can create the illusion of depth. My long-term projects are usually what I consider my expression of ‘fine art.’ whatever that means. They usually are an expression of faith, in some fashion.

I generally don’t do ‘religious art’ images–‘blanket pictures’–everyone walking around wearing blankets… Faith for me is more than a Bible story. I never have been one to mess with other people’s lives. I’ve never appreciated when people have tried to mess with mine. I had the job of ‘messing with’ my children’s lives; and I tried to limit that involvement; I didn’t think it was my children’s job to vicariously live the life I was or wasn’t able to. So, my illustrations have tried to reflect the outcomes of my faith; particularly Grace–unmerited favor–a gift we do not earn or deserve.

I came to faith ‘kicking and screaming’ [those who know me know I do neither]; I did not want to become a religious person. Eric Liddell knew he had a purpose, and he was fortunate to know what it was. I’m still fumbling around, trying to figure it out. I encounter people, whether ‘live or on Memorex’- who talk about ‘losing faith’–another concept I don’t really understand. A gas jet was ignited within me thirty-eight years ago. Not a big flame, one could barely cook over it; and yet one that has not gone out. Thirty years of chronic pain, including twenty years of migraines [ice packs, lying in the dark]; and now a season of neuropathy–my skin has lost most of it’s sensitivity; and yet my deeper nerves continue to send messages of aching; sometimes sharp pains. Job’s wife told Job he should ‘curse God and die,’ and Job responded with, “You are talking like a foolish woman. Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?” I never ‘found’ faith–it was something embedded within me; I don’t know how to lose it. Sort of like losing my liver…

Today was a crummy day; I spent most of it in bed or on the recliner. Fortunately, I feel better now that it’s early morning. My eyes don’t work correctly; the neuropathy has affected my eye muscles, and they don’t converge well, nor do they adjust quickly. I can empathize with my youngest son, who inherited my Mom’s crossed eyes.

When I draw [manually or digitally], sometimes I feel my Creator’s pleasure. Or perhaps share in the pleasure of Creation. Creation is pleasure, and I believe that this is why it has never stopped, and never will. Children know this intuitively; it’s usually the criticism of others that spoils the creativity, and sometimes keeps it from happening from that point onward. Sometimes the light never goes out.

forward to:
www.mjarts.com

Tags:
Posted in art, careers, children's books, depression, Illustration, neuropathy, pain, self-employment, Uncategorized | 2 Comments »

Faces

September 19, 2011

Faces.
I feel like I’ve been drawing them all of my life… I wonder how many more I’ll be drawing. I discovered tonight that the sense of feeling in my fingers has significantly decreased in the last month. They still work–the motor nerves function; but they work by sight now, more than by feeling.

I watched an amazing video tonight, from a CBS broadcast of  Simon & Garfunkel’s “American Songs” program in 1969; aired only once because it was so controversial at the time. This particular video is a series of scenes from the presidency of John F. Kennedy, the last years of Dr. King’s life and some campaigning by Robert Kennedy, as he strove to follow his brother’s footsteps. And the thousands of people who lined the railroad tracks across the country as the body of JFK was taken to Washington from Texas. The soundtrack is “Bridge Over Troubled Waters”:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5yhNKR-SkAo

The country was different back then. Not necessarily better or worse…it was better and worse. And it was very different than today…
I was in high school in 1969, and fairly oblivious. I knew about the political unrest in our country, watched a classmate devastated by the assassination of Robert Kennedy. Dr. King’s assassination was of little interest to me because I’d only met a handful of African Americans; in high school, and I’d never had a conversation with any of them.  Portland was pretty white in those days.  I was beginning to get concerned about the political situation in the country,  because THE DRAFT was looming on the horizon…

I started drawing faces in the 6th[?] grade; a way to keep myself occupied during long summer weekends in a tiny Eastern Oregon town, which seemed to me the most boring place on earth [my grandmother only had one or two television channels, and her house was strange and uncomfortable]. On her front porch she had a refrigerator carton full of old magazines; so I started drawing the faces I found in the Saturday Evening Post and Life Magazine.

By the time I was leaving high school, I figured I’d become a technical illustrator– I’d become fascinated by the renderings of ‘things’ we made in my last two years of drafting. The summer between my Senior and Freshman years I debated long and hard over the purchase of a “stereo system”–to the younger readers, a turntable, amp and speakers– a prerequisite for every college student in 1970. We did not have televisions or computers in college when dinosaurs ruled the earth. The TV was in the basement of the dorm, and got packed on Thursday evenings so we could watch Rod Serling’s “Night Gallery”.

If I was drafted, I’d have no need for the stereo; if I wasn’t drafted, I needed the stereo for my dorm room. On July 11 I bought the stereo. Had I been born 6 hours earlier, I would have been on my way to Vietnam or Canada. The difference between a draft number in the 20’s and one ten times larger.

Faces have always fascinated me. Norman Rockwell, my illustration hero, once said that the most interesting faces were among the elderly, and I now understand. Infants have few interesting characteristics. Rockwell enjoyed drawing children and teens, many of them probably somewhat of a caricature of themselves. He found young adults through middle age were generally boring, but they were needed for casting.

I always start with the eyes; we are told that they are the ‘windows of the soul,’ and if I get them wrong, the rest of the face probably won’t turn out well. My best drawings have a soul… not an eternal one, but a soul nonetheless; part of that soul is steeped in the music I listen to while I draw, or by the movies I have on as background. I’ve always wanted to play an instrument; I bought a piano once that is beautiful to look at, but I stopped practicing. In order to get as good as I wanted to be as a pianist, I’d have to take time away from drawing. So our piano is a beautiful piece of art in our living room. My drawing is the music my soul plays.

Our world today needs the protest singers of the 60’s and 70’s. New versions of them, that is. The world is easily as messed up as it was then; I know the USA is as messed up.  The battle for Civil Rights has become a battle between the rich and the poor; and the soundtrack is missing. “Hell” and “damn” were the strongest language allowed in public performances back then; and yet, the lyrics gave us hope, and courage to stand up against injustice. As “interesting” as it may be, using “F***in'” as an adjective or an adverb, a dozen times in a paragraph, doesn’t really improve the language at all. I guess I’m getting old.

Give yourself a gift: listen to “The Sounds of Silence”  tonight.

forward to:
www.mjarts.com

Tags:
Posted in art, careers, children's books, depression, Illustration, neuropathy, pain, self-employment, Uncategorized | Comments Off on Faces

September 12, 2011


One of my first heroes, George Reeves. I don’t know that he ever understood his contribution to society.

I can’t think about what happened ten years ago yesterday, without thinking about the thousands of innocent people throughout the world, throughout history, whose lives have been sacrificed upon the altar of revenge. I am a pacifist who believes that violence is inevitable, for we are a broken people, prone to place the suffering of others below our own suffering. It is all tragedy.

I watch lots of movies;  I love watching stories being told. Some have suggested that I spend too much time watching stories and not living one. I’m working on that.
This afternoon I watched “Mongol,” a Russian/Chinese film about the rise of Genghis Khan.  The Mongolian clans based their lives on revenge–he stole my horses, I’ll steal his wife. Temudjin [to later become Genghis Khan] decided that Mongols needed laws:
“Mongols need laws. I will make them obey…even if I have to kill half of them.
Our laws will be simple. Don’t kill women or children. Don’t forget your debts.
Fight enemies to the end. And never betray your khan. ”
For all of our supposed progress, I’m not sure that we have gotten beyond those laws. The prohibition against the killing of women and children seems to have been forgotten.

I also watched “Prince Caspian.” C.S. Lewis is another one of my heroes. Watching “Mongol” and watching “Prince Caspian” were very similar experiences; a quantitative difference in red paint. I’m not sure that’s what Mr. Lewis intended.

I grew up believing in heroes. Those willing to sacrifice their live in order to save another. That’s one good thing that came from the tragedy of 9/11– the honoring of the heroes who ran into the burning buildings. I once worked with one of those sorts of people. He ran into a burning building to rescue a trapped woman. And got chewed out later by a senior officer, for not putting on his protective gear before entering the building… He served a different Master.

I met the greatest of my heroes when I was in my twenties. An encounter that changed my life forever. He sacrificed his life so that we all could live. Unfortunately, His story has gotten so messed up over the centuries that it means very little to very many. His story isn’t an action tale. It’s the story of reaching out to people where they are and accepting them. It’s a story of compassion and forgiveness. And a story of bravery that does not rely weapons. Perhaps the greatest bravery of all.

I grew up with the illustrations of Howard Pyle, NC Wyeth, Frank Schoonover, Hal Foster and lesser lights. Tales of adventure where good won out over evil… fairy tales, I suppose; in these times.

I dreamed, I still  dream of following in their footsteps.

forward to:
www.mjarts.com

Tags:
Posted in art, careers, children's books, depression, Illustration, neuropathy, pain, self-employment, Uncategorized | Comments Off on

the concept of blogging

September 5, 2011

“…and the monstrous creatures of whales”

          I recently went through a period of weeks where I thought I had a fatal illness. As far as the doctors have been able to determine, my sensory neuropathy isn’t going to be fatal; but it might be even more uncomfortable than it has been.   This isn’t necessarily great news; I’ve been dealing with chronic pain for about 30 years, and that the thought of things getting worse isn’t particularly exciting. So I now go through my days with little feeling in my hands [and everywhere else]; a diminished ability to look closely at my work [my eyes don’t converge properly], and a diminished sense of balance.

When I was dealing with my questions of death, I realized that I wasn’t concerned about Eternity–I took care of that in 1973, when I gave my life back to my Creator. I was concerned about things undone. I have a granddaughter living states away that I barely know. I have illustration projects I haven’t completed.  And I don’t feel that I have done much about influencing the world in a positive manner.

So I have returned to the concept of blogging. Do I want the world to know the struggles I go through to create illustrations? Not really. I am generally a very private person. I write with ease; I’ve been writing technical opinions for nearly thirty years. I have lots of opinions; but I find that most people are concerned about their own opinions, rather than being open to new ones.

A couple of years ago I helped chaperone a ‘high-school lock-in’. During a card game/ice-breaker, we were asked, “what would your dream job be?” I fortunately did not have to answer that I already have my ‘dream job’— it just isn’t quite what I imagined it would be. For the last 11 years I’ve earned a living as a Building Code Consultant/ Illustrator; in reality, I use every Building Code project as an opportunity to work as an illustrator. To a degree, I ‘collaborate’ with myself– doing research and technical writing as a “Consultant”, and then handing the project over to my in-house “Illustrator” to help the final product easier to understand through the use of images.

Twenty years ago, when I decided it was time to start pursuing a career as a children’s book illustrator, I started collecting images of work that I wanted to emulate. I recently received a Canadian image-promotion magazine, and discovered that most of the photographers had Photoshopped their images to make them look more like drawings/ paintings; and the illustrators’ work tended to look like cartoons. I’ve caught up with the images I wanted to make 20 years ago; but the parade of taste has changed course.

          Still, I persist. Each and every day I am sustained by the Love, Mercy and Grace of my Creator…

Tags:
Posted in art, careers, children's books, depression, Illustration, neuropathy, pain, self-employment, Uncategorized | 1 Comment »

Newer Entries »