Tag Archives: Drawing

Imitation Flamingo

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digital illustrationHere’s the thing about flamingos: they’re living contradictions. They’re some of the least altered descendants of the dinosaurs, yet in the twentieth century they became icons of modernism in art and design in large part for the very strangeness that ties them so closely to their ancestors. In the span of that surge of popularity, they also had both the high-cultural cachet of favored subjects in Art Deco’s glamorous creations and the lowbrow delights of trailer park plastic lawn decorations. The elegant long necks, graceful broad wings, and that magical coral hue of their plankton-painted plumage are counterbalanced by rather gawky squawking voices and oh, my, what an unattractive smell.

Here’s another thing: we human-types tend to have a certain ambivalence about many things in our lives and appreciate that the world is far from simple. So it’s not surprising that many of us should find flamingos fairly intriguing and compelling. They’re kind of weird. They’re sort of good metaphorical stand-ins for us.

I’m fond of and amazed by birds. I’m particularly drawn to raptors and songbirds, but truth be told, I wasn’t so taken by flamingos, and when I got to spend a tiny bit of quality time in their presence in zoos or parks, I was amused by their seeming clumsiness and more than a little taken aback by their stink and noise. Guess you won’t be surprised, then, to know that when I had a little time to reflect on it–well, it was my own reflection I saw. I’m still thankful I’m not an actual flamingo, since people mostly don’t laugh openly at my foibles when in my presence, and hardly ever tell me to my face that I’m stinky. All the same, having that little picture stored in my mind is useful. I may still be slightly ridiculous, in my stumbling, silly way and with my imperfect voice and showy but eccentric ways, but I guess if flamingos can be such wonderful and iconic beings with all of their oddities, why shouldn’t I, too? Flawed and goofy I may be, but I’m an amazing creature of my own kind.

You can Lead Me to Water…

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…but I can’t guarantee I’ll be smart or committed enough to take advantage of it. I may represent the truly average human in that, though it’s hardly cause for admiration or celebration. We’re just good at being too blind, stubborn, ignorant, lazy and foolish to make proper use of whatever riches are set in our way. It’s silly enough that I can sit at the brink of a well pouring out pure, cold, sweet water and die of thirst, but that I would fail to fill a cup for any of the other thirsty people waiting for my smallest effort becomes a much more significant omission. I should be better. I could be better.graphite drawingAnd I want to be better. The first step, surely, has got to be simply paying attention. Am I so accustomed to privilege that I have acquired wealth-blindness, forgetting how rich I am, or worse yet, have succumbed to that ugly disease, Entitlement? I must teach myself to renew my awe and wonder at what is good and great in my life. Then I must remember to make wise, generous, jubilant and extravagant use of it all. A whole new year lies ahead, a whole new series of opportunities for improvement. See you at the brink.

I Made a Wreath

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I did make a wreath, really–well, two. And as usual, they got a little more complicated and veered from the original plans all along the way, and the wreaths sort of made themselves, with a little elbow grease from me. That does seem to be my modus operandi most of the time, doesn’t it. I like to think of myself as an artist and the chief inventor in my colorful little universe, but when I’m being honest with myself, it’s more like I’m the cheap labor. Once the particular puzzles announce themselves to me, I may be able to offer the valuable skill of problem solving to make them possible (or as nearly so as I can), along with the effort required to bring them into existence, but in truth I’m often as surprised by the end product as anybody.P&IThat’s not entirely what I meant to say in this little post, of course. What I intended was to say that my time among you makes me think wreath-making a particularly purposeful thing to do, regardless of its utility or lack thereof as an object. Because to me, they represent all of the good and cheerful things contained in holidays and celebrations, and bring fine and flexible attractions to the decoration of home and garden. But further, and more significant in this difference to me, a wreath is a way to publicly express personal happiness through a small creative act. I make no claim that this is deep stuff. It’s a small pleasure and a minor artistic outlet, a rather insignificant creation even among the doings of a humbly insignificant artist. But as a token of well-being, contentment and hope, and no less, a mark of my understanding that I am privileged to feel all of those and know that I do so in large part thanks to the fine company I keep, this is enough cheering reason for me to make such playful little artworks, and even make artworks about making the artworks. Odd, I know, but in that alone, well suited to represent me too.digital illustrationI confess, silly as it is, it kind of leaves me wreathed in smiles just thinking about it.

Is the Sound of My Voice Bugging You?

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digital illustrationDrone

I’m not a soldier or a bee, but when I’m passing through

You might mistakenly think me a drone, for what I do,

More than a bagpipe ever did, is blow and bloviate

And buzz so much–I do not kid–you’ll wish the kinder fate

Of early death, deafness at least, enveloping with fog

Your tender soul, until it’s ceased–my tedious monologue.

Time to Pony Up

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“Let’s canter to the car, Auntie!”

I’m going to lay down a seriously sizable wager that few others ever heard that particular construction from a little kid, but that’s just the way my father once famously startled his great-aunt with in suggesting how they might approach their ride home one legendary day many decades ago.digital illustrationSafe to say that Auntie was as bemused and amazed as anyone would be. No idea where he got that particular word ‘canter’, since he was a townie through and through from birth and if he’d ever heard reference to a horse’s gait it must’ve been in a story everybody else had since forgotten. Regardless of the origin of his comically odd suggestion, he was undoubtedly on to something useful. Why slouch or straggle when you can get up your gumption a little and break into a comfortable run?

It’s never a bad idea to try a new approach to life, especially in something as generally promising as intentionally re-energizing oneself and committing to a higher level of focus and commitment. Even better, if the technique chosen can add a little pizzazz and humor to the act. Why wander aimlessly when you can trot cheerfully?

Around the changes of life as time passes, whether changes of season or millennium or merely of day to night and night to day, it’s always a fairly useful thing to consider What Next–more specifically, how to make what’s next more fruitful, interesting, productive, and enjoyable. And often, such changes needn’t be as daunting as we let them be. The tiniest alteration in the way things have always been can have a remarkable and positive ripple effect if we just put a little heart into it. Why amble when you can gallop?

As the end of 2013 approaches I will as always have spent a fair amount of time looking at what has been in the past year and considering what I might like to add or improve as I move into the beginning of 2014. While I might like to spend time communing with a nice horse or two in the year ahead, because after all they are beautiful and intelligent and full of personality, I might be better served by contemplating how I can pick up my own pace and move forward in a comfortably equine manner. It’s a good time to saddle up and do things that challenge and amuse and please me, most of all those that can help me improve myself at the same time. I can talk about it all I want but until I pony up and make the effort, I’ll only dream of what good can come of it all. Why walk when I can canter?

Mad Cat, Bad Cat

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graphite drawing + digital mattingMurderous Mack

I prowl the alley on dark nights, looking for trouble spots and fights

And hissing, spitting, yowling, loud, my claws and fangs splitting the crowd,

So don’t be fooled if I look fine: wildfire is in my feline line–

My zoot suit is as cool as ice; my blood, though? Hot, not cool; not nice–

I’m fast, I’m fine, the cat that has searchlights for eyes, wild stripes for jazz,

A heart of iron, soul of steel, and toughness that’s dead deep, for real–

I’m fuzzy, but I warn you that I ain’t no prissy pussycat;

I’m lean and mean; I’m slick and sleek. But sweet? I’ll kick you to next week!

Get me riled up, it won’t be pretty–Bad Cat, yeah, but never Kitty–

All the same, at home a tub of cream is nice; a belly rub;

I’m tiger tough, to say the least, but hey! I ain’t no senseless beast–

Don’t cross me, ’cause I’m fierce, although I’m not an animal, you know!digital illustration

Her Misbehavior, as Seen in a Slightly Foxed Mirror

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Oops! I outfoxed myself. I was so distracted by the odd weather we’ve been having here lately and all of the ways it’s unexpectedly altered our calendar and our plans (though my birthday came today right on schedule, wink-wink) that I completely forgot last night to put up the day’s post. So I did it today. A two-fer. Just to remind all of you how much I love you. Thank you for your patience. I may be getting a little absent-minded in my old age, but I still think the world of y’all. Happy two-post day!

Vulpine

The vixen, when she deigns to leave her den,

May have designs on other vixens’ men,

For, little as I know the ways of foxes,

I know they don’t like being kept in boxes

But rather like the freedom just to roam

To any den, if it should look like home,

And any male they’d like to have as mate–

Beware the vixen’s wiles, ere it’s too late!digital illustration

 

Flantasia

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graphite drawingThe Warbling Flantical

Upon a promontory sat the Flantical, in coat and hat,

In curled toupee and beaded gloves (the sort his sort of person loves),

And sang a tune so bold and sweet, a choir gathered at his feet

And joined their voices, fine and strong, to this his pure and sacred song,

Admiring both his vocal fire and handsome mien in that attire,

And so anon, the Flantical and choir closed their canticle

And all dispersed, but all retained the melody that still remained

In head and heart; that is the story born upon that promontory,

And each Flantical now loves to sing it, wearing beaded gloves.digital illustration

Look Both Ways Before Crossing

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digital illustrationI know that it’s always wise to be observant, especially when I might be walking directly into the teeth of danger. But trouble is hardly limited to the known and the seen. How sorry I’ll be for my foolishness if I get so obsessively focused on what I fear most that I fail to notice something equally important–or perhaps more imminently so.digital illustrationWorst of all if I’m so  immobilized by my phobias and fears that I just lose my nerve, my will to forge ahead and past them, and in doing so stay fixed in the very place where I’ll forever be the most vulnerable.digital illustration

Look What I’ve Done!

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graphite drawingWhile I will readily admit to having laid an egg, and a prizewinner at that, many a time in my life, I have neither done so in physiological terms nor, as the bird in today’s illustration appears to have done, in the supernatural way that allows said egg to levitate spontaneously.

On the other hand (or wing), I have managed to score a few modest accomplishments of my own, which, while hardly supernatural, at least impressed the heck out of me. And I rarely, in these cases, fail to make the bragging announcement.

The most remarkable thing about all of this is not that I have ever accomplished anything at all (let alone worthy of note)–though this is indeed impressive enough–it’s that I may have once or twice done something moderately grand and not felt compelled to trumpet self-aggrandisement.

Or did I just cancel out that small virtue by saying so? It’s just so hard to be humble.digital illustration