Category: Art

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Patron Of The Arts

I stumbled across this artist's work on Instagram (edited, obviously). Asked for the unedited versions and learned that whoever is posting them is not actually the original artist. As for tracking down the artist himself, I came up empty because it seems all his web presence is hopelessly out of date, although he does have an active Twitter account. Sadly it doesn't seem like he's done much new work lately. Maybe the Muses have taken a vacation. I know from personal experience they are wont to do that.

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This is One of the Reasons I Stopped Painting

I mean, other than the obvious reason I give people; that the Muses have permanently left the building.

Digital art is something that's fascinated me since its infancy. I suppose I should have tried to get into it back in the day,  but I never seemed to have the necessary computing hardware or the funds available to purchase a digitizing tablet which was a requirement to do anything serious. (I mean, have you ever tried drawing with a mouse?)  Now that I do have the means to get what I need, I'm so hopelessly out of touch with the medium that I get flummoxed by simply opening Adobe Illustrator. I have a very basic knowledge of Photoshop – mostly photo retouching and creating simple, text-based images, but nowhere near the level of expertise used to create the images above.

Also, my particular painting style is now a filter available through any number of graphics programs, so…why bother?

A new initiative at work—being pushed by the new boss—is professional development. Before COVID hit and the world shut down, I was scheduled to take some beginner Illustrator classes, but that fell by the wayside. Now, apprently it's not considered "essential to my job," so it's not happening.

So if push comes to shove and there's no way of avoiding training, I'm going to opt for some additional Microsoft fucking Sharepoint crap since our entire web presence is based on it and my immediate supervisor—who has a hard-on for the platform—insists on assigning me tickets related to it because I "need to get up to speed."

Yeah, whatever.

Speaking of that, as of our last team meeting in regards to this initiative, I'm supposed to be focusing on my personal "career trajectory." Honey, my career trajectory consists of getting the fuck out of there and retiring in something like 945 work days.

Yes, I'm counting.

Sorry, I didn't mean for this to turn into a work rant.

(BTW, the artwork above is by Tim Razumovsky.)

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Not the Same, But Still Welcome in this House

I drove back down to Tucson yesterday (a horrific ordeal in and of itself which I'll spare you; suffice to say I should've stayed home). I bought two "new" Miles Thompson gargoyles from the seemingly one venue in town still selling them. I'd bought the originals in the late 90s/early 2000s at Antigone Books on 4th Avenue, but when I called yesterday to see if they were selling his work the girl who answered said she'd never heard of him. So hrmph…

I was assured by the store owner where I bought these new masks that Miles is still very much alive and well (albeit 75 years of age now), and is still producing work. I mentioned to her that Miles seems to have no online presence beyond this shop's website, and she said she's been wanting to get him to set up online and his response has always been "I don't want to become my work."

As an on-and-off again artist, I can relate. When I paint, I do it for me, not to make money. If it was my sole source of income I'm sure I'd come to hate it in short order, something I have a very hard time imparting on my friends who tell me I should be painting more. It's not like you can just summon the Muses, after all.

I am reasonably certain I rescued all three of the original masks from the house, before the restoration companies came in so they have to be somewhere, but I'll be damned if I know where. (I did easily find one of them.) Perhaps now that I spent way too much on replacing them (Miles' prices have gone up in the last fifteen years, go figger), they'll finally reveal themselves.

I suppose I could always cuss out the Prop Master for not having those particular props ready for these scenes in my life. Maybe that will cause them to magically appear?

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Girls in the Windows

"In 1960, while a construction crew dismantled a row of brownstones right across from my own brownstone studio on East 58th Street, I was inspired to, somehow immortalize those buildings. I had the vision of 43 women in formal dress adorning the windows of the skeletal facade.

We had to work quickly to secure City permissions, arrange for models which included celebrities, the demolition supervisior's wife (third floor, third from left), my own wife (second floor, far right), and also secure the Rolls Royce to be parked on the sidewalk. Careful planning was a necessity as the photography had to be accomplished during the workers' lunch time!

The day before the buildings were razed, the 43 women appeared in their finest attire, went into the buildings, climbed the old stairs, and took their places in the windows. I was set up on my fire escape across the streeet, directing the scene, with bullhorn in hand. Of course I was concerned for the Models' safety, as some were daring enough to pose out on the crumbling sills.

The photography came off as planned. What had seemed to some as too dangerous or difficult to accomplish, became my fantasy fulfilled, and my most memorable self – assigned photograph. It has been an international award winner ever since.

Most professional photographers dream of having one signature picture they are known for. Girls in The Windows is mine."

Girls in The Windows. Ormond Gigli, 1960.

This really spoke to me.

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Just Because

This image has always appealed to me. Unfortunately I can't find a high-resolution copy worth printing and framing.

Many years ago I had a past life regression.  The vision that came to me was stepping off an egg-shaped shuttlecraft into a deserted field of waist-high grass. In the distance there was a single tree, and beyond that, rolling, forested hills. I was part of a galactic survey team and we'd just touched down on a previously unmapped planet. It was my first surface recon mission and what struck me was how green everything was—because apparently wherever I'd called home the vegetation wasn't green. I was dressed in some sort of white leather-like suit with a simple breathing apparatus attached to my face. As far as I could tell, I was human (or at least very human-like). I didn't actually see my face at any point, but I had two arms, two legs, and five fingers on each hand. I got nothing more from the regression than that, but it kind of shook me nonetheless.

I interpret this picture as the crew of just such a mission aboard their main starship.

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Inside a Globular Cluster

Since I was a nerdy 12-year old just venturing into amateur astronomy (and having just read Isaac Asimov's Nightfall—great short story, horrible movie) I've wondered what the night sky of a planet inside a globular cluster would look like. Glad to have found this picture, as it seems I wasn't the only one who'd been wondering.

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Music of My Muses

Since we're on the subject of Philip Glass…

Many years ago I put this CD on one afternoon and as this particular track from the disc was reaching its crescendo, I was moved to begin a painting. I was lucky in that I had a blank canvas available and almost before I knew what was happening I was on my feet and sketching. After a years-long absence, the Muses had returned—in force—and they weren't taking no for a response.

This is the result: