Sunday, January 12, 2014

In my dream, version 12

In my dream, I was touring a neighborhood near my dwelling. It was a bright and sunny day. The street was lined with neatly kept, single-storey homes, well-trimmed lawns, and middle-aged trees that were full, healthy, and green. There were a few people about, and a few cars parked in the street. I traveled first downhill on one street, turned right for a block, and then right again. This street was curved like an "S" and was uphill.

I was riding a unicycle.

Later, after dark, I came to a busy, four-lane street. I mounted my parked unicycle and darted across the street, being narrowly missed by two cars, one of them yellow.

Still later, I came out of a pub with my friends and, like you do after an evening at the bar, began scampering up and down the roof peaks of downtown residences. The other three got ahead of me and I fell down a skylight into the bathroom of a townhome. The skylight was about one foot square.

I came out into a hallway and surprised a woman who was home with her young son. She thought I was an intruder with malicious intentions, but I managed to say something that calmed her immediately down. I offered to draw her son a picture.

As I was contemplating the art I was about to make, the woman's husband came home and, seeing me, was outraged. I told him the first part of my story, about falling through the skylight, but he wasn't having any of it until the woman offered him an explanation that defused him. I thought, "Well, that's how I got in explained. Now for the rest."

After this, I became obsessed -- still in the dream -- with the picture I was going to draw: a gigantic Brontosaurus-like dinosaur surrounded by tiny, tiny trees.

When I left my new friends, my pub friends had just pulled up outside in their car, intent upon rescuing me from whatever trouble I'd gotten myself into.

When I woke up this morning, I thought that I should write these down. They were quite vivid. But between my bedside and the lavatory, they were gone. Forgotten. Then, a few minutes ago, I saw an image from the production for an opera where two men and a woman were on stage in their underwear, and that caused me to remember my dream, because also last night, after the events above...

In my dream, there was a young man in only a dress shirt, necktie, and socks on a stage.

Dreams are weird.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014


Monday, January 6, 2014


For a couple of years starting in 2007 or so, I decided to have a 15-minute creative action every day (please see Carol Lloyd's Creating a Life Worth Living). The project was to create a collage from found images on the internet to illustrate Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day.

The rule that I set for myself demanded that the only search term I could use was the word for that day, even for the text used in the image. This led to some later amendments for words that resulted in unusable images or no images at all, especially for the text ("grandiloquent" was one that I had to break up by syllable to find images of text). My searches also sometimes led to some unforeseeable ickiness: I don't remember the word, but my first search netted nothing but photos of open surgical wounds. Delightful.

I didn't miss a day for over two years, and at the beginning of the third, I decided to start creating my own images.

This change resulted in some interesting typography designs, a lot of them resembling Art Deco, of which I'm very fond. They were also often shockingly literal, which was and still is disappointing. But every now and then my imagination would fire in an unexpected way, as it did when the Word of the Day was "engender."

I'd forgotten about this illustration. I giggled a little when I saw it again after all this time.

Being easily amused is its own reward.

*Blogger didn't allow me to put the superscript "n" in the subject. Yes, I'm bitter.

Saturday, January 4, 2014

The Dark Knight

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Noo Spinoolean Tarot - Darkness

I don't usually stay up this late, but I thought I'd see 2013 out and 2014 in. So far, I'm having trouble telling a difference.

This year, I pledge to:
  • Read the biographies I bought and take notes.
  • Fill my technical pens with ink and draw with them.
  • Say "Twenty-fourteen" instead of "Two-thousand-fourteen."
  • Get younger, thinner, richer, and taller.
That's good enough for starters. In truth, I have a ton of plans and lack the discipline to achieve them. But I aspire.

Happy New Year, Everybody!