Archive

Tag Archives: art

2019 0805 mri finish

At long last “magnetic resonance imaging” is at that stage of completion where any further work on it would be as likely to do harm as good.

I am proud to have seen this tricky, demanding image/poem to its appropriate destination, but not so proud as to ignore its defects. It doesn’t have the visual impact that it could, if I’d done it in a larger scale than 7 inches by 10. (Would the two weeks or so be worth the finer polish I could put to it if I redid it at 20 inches by 30? Undoubtedly. Would I be willing to do it? Not for its own sake. I could make at least 10 new images in the same amount of time, and use the Idea part of my brain and not the Reporter part of my brain. I vastly prefer using the latter. But if I had a guaranteed sale at $2 per square inch,  which is what my friend Vivian Andersen was charging when we were gallery-space partners, that would be $1200 US gross, and good practice to boot. So, yes, if I were incentivized by a sure sale, I would get right to it, and it would be a bargain for the buyer at twice the price, because this is one of the more important image/ideas within my capability. (Friends, I am high now, not on drugs nor alcohol, but on having finished this ungainly thing, so forgive, please, my delusion of grandeur.)

Defective or not, delusion of grandeur or not, this acrostic image is a success. I fit an array of meaningful words into the straitjacket I’d built in its early stage, and it is definitely about both the Brain and the Soul, and for a bonus, its parsing and slicing is superbly analogous to Magnetic Resonance Imaging.

Please see my previous work-in-progress post for notes on the first four lines. As for the last four, three elements might need clarification, but I will point rather than blather on and on. “Dendritic” refers to Dendrites, and there is an excellent discussion of their form and function in Wikipedia. “Electrochemic nets” capture our thoughts and memories, per our current understanding of brainwork. And “bands for Gideon” refers (metaphorically) to Gideon’s Band, loyal stalwarts that may be found in the Bible. Many hotel rooms have had Bibles placed in them by a group of proselytizers known as…the Gideons.

Finally, the last three panels at lower right were done without looking at the MRI photo sources, but rather relying on my memory of them. When I reviewed the images, I saw that with a little exaggeration, a top-down view of the centermost cross-section of the brain could be made to resemble the stylized heart shape we use to symbolize Love.  I also remembered that one of the “with contrast” images had flared contrast-wings remindful of a butterfly. Brain, Butterfly, Heart: that is the best of us.

magnetic resonance imaging

mazes, spark plugs, forests, thruways make us cognoscenti
an arabesque or two or four comprise an idiom
gendarmic membranes won’t enshroud nor would they be placenta
nor would they glad participate in telepathic gleaning
eloquences wax dendritic make a foe effendi
then electrochemic nets bind bands for gideon
it’s all subject to indecency like stroke-lost meaning
confectionary at its best, though–to Divine we’re leaning

2019 0804 magresimg

With the meter/rhyme scheme established, but not too rigidly enforced, the construction of the poem is becoming easier. Here is how what has been written reads:

Mazes, spark plugs, forests, thruways make us cognoscenti
An arabesque or two or four comprise an idiom
Gendarmic membranes won’t enshroud nor would they be placenta
Nor would they glad participate in telepathic gleaning

It is kindasorta iambic septameter, but the first line is trochaic. Sonnets will sometimes tack a syllable on the end of a line, and if you do that, you are being “non-heroic” because landing right on the correct last syllable is called “heroic.” (Similarly, quantum physicists use terms like “charm” and “strange” and “spin.” Words ALWAYS fail, to some degree, to echo Reality.)

Line 1: the “mazes, spark plugs, forests, thruways” referred to are failing-badly approximations of brain structures. Probably the best of this sad lot is “spark plugs,” which analogizes the superstructure of the synapse.

Line 2: from the Merriam-Webster definition of Arabesque: “1 : an ornament or style that employs flower, foliage, or fruit and sometimes animal and figural outlines to produce an intricate pattern of interlaced lines. 2 : a posture (as in ballet) in which the body is bent forward from the hip on one leg with one arm extended forward and the other arm and leg backward.” Line 2 crudely describes brain-embroidery in the imagining of a more advanced form of expression than the starkly descriptive.

Line 3: I owe “Gendarmic” to Robert Heinlein: in his apocalyptic story “The Year of the Jackpot” he has Potiphar Breen refer to big rock pillars on a mountain as Gendarmes. Gendarme is a French noun meaning Guard. And the corpus callosum, the separator of the brain hemispheres, may be viewed as a guardian of electrical activity between the hemispheres. (I hope I’m not being TOTALLY inaccurate here, but I’m certain my analogy is off the mark to some degree. Poetic License!!)

Line 4 mentions Telepathy, a probably mythical phenomenon in the literal sense. It means Mind-Reading, that is, the ability to listen to thoughts. Some people can read body language so well that they have an idea of what a person is thinking, but there is no hard evidence that telepathy exists. Certainly there is a wealth of anecdotal accounts of alleged telepathy, but I for one don’t believe it exists.

Since all the principal drawing for this page has been done, all that remains before final cleanup is to finish the poem. It’s quite likely that the next stage will be the finished page. We can hope! 🙂

20190803_200129

Not much to say about this one–no deep meaning, no symbolism, just a lot of skating around with a Conté crayon after drawing trapezoidal shapes with a pastel pencil. Some blending and touchup with stump and eraser. Just meant to engage and pleasure the eye.

2019 0731 gossamer blossoms

Today is the last day of July, and the day of fulfillment for the Index Card A Day challenge. I end with some invented blossoms, drawing by the seat of my pants, with no photo source, and a minimum of word-clutter. Just thought of the blossoms as quiet, slow-exploding fireworks.

2019 0730 superhero

I’ve been watching an Amazon Prime series called THE BOYS, about a group of superheroes who not only, as Stan Lee once prescribed for such, have feet of clay beneath their super-boots, they also have a degree of wrongness to them that goes from corporate sellout to bad to the bone. My suspicion is that the title derives from the Shakespeare quotation “As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport.”

Be that as it might, it got me onto superhero conception and creation, and here is what I came up with. Townes Cryer, a talk-jock who has an emotional-catharsis program in the wee hours, gets hit with Earth, Air, Fire and Water one fateful night, when a mudslide strikes his station just as lightning hits the antenna and a fire springs up–and then the sprinkler system comes on, and a kindly Fairy-Godmother type of alien creature, a fan of Cryer’s show, effects his rescue, and a side effect of the instant-healing she subjects Cryer to changes him radically. He now has Magic Tears, no hair, and a row of cranial appendages that can fuel his lachrymal glands with moisture from the air, and can expel his tears as steam, as ice projectiles, as fog, or as saline.

Odds are I will do nothing else with this character, but that hardly matters. He lives.

 

2019 0728 hack work

This post is dedicated to Jack Kirby, comic-book artist extraordinaire, who had an astonishingly prolific career. He was the John Henry, Steel Drivin’ Man of comics. And sometimes, and sometimes disparagingly, he was referred to by his colleagues as “Jack the Hack.”

The thing about Hackwork, though, is that it is deadline-driven. Comic books as published in America during most of Kirby’s career HAD to come out once a month, every month, without fail. And the better you were, the more demand for your work there was, and the more deadlines you had. Sometimes the deadlines were so many and so crushing that the quality of work suffered.

Writer Harlan Ellison, whose prolificity was legend, wrote “‘Repent, Harlequin!’ Said the Ticktockman,” a story about the insidiousness of deadlines. Introducing the story in one of his antholgies, he quoted a mogul saying, “I don’t care if it’s GOOD, as long as it’s Tuesday!”

And in the intro to Phoenix Without Ashes, the novel of the Starlost he co-wrote with Edward Bryant, Jr., he told us about something Charles Beaumont told him when he moved to Hollywood, which was that attaining success in Hollywood was like climbing an enormous mountain of cow flop, in order to pluck one perfect rose from the summit–but, alas, after you have made that hideous climb, you have lost the sense of smell.

So this post is also dedicated to all hard-working people who dive in and get it done, day after week after month after year after decade. I want to specifically mention two Facebook friends of mine. One is Tom Orzechowski, who as letterer/calligrapher for the Uncanny X-Men and other mutant-related titles, and whatever else they threw at him, maintained a consistently high level of quality, of artistry, in his work. The other is my work colleague LaShawna Douglas-Muhammad, who worked her way up from line cook to manager for SSP America with class, determination, and sheer hard work. Tom and Shawna are two of my heroes and role models.

HACK Work

Have a Deadline!!! Don’t be sloW
Ah–your Hand flies to & frO
Crank & fizz like PerrieR
KIRBYESQUE IS A-OK

Edit/Add, 6:48 PM: After a text conversation with the hyperkinetic creator of AMAZING ARIZONA COMICS, Russ Kazmierczak, who’s done mountains of quality deadline-driven work of his own, including multiple stints of producing an ENTIRE ISSUE of his fine publication in a mere 24 HOURS, I want to emphasize that the concepts of “hackwork” and “s/he’s a hack” have been often unfairly applied to dedicated, hard-working creatives. Prolificity often results in quality of work much higher than may be attained by waiting for inspiration to strike. Olympic hopefuls realize that being the best means punching that workout timeclock with consistency and high frequency, rain or shine, feel great or feel awful, “in a relationship” or “just got dumped.” It is a quality of Champions.

 

20190727_052155

undertones

up the line from maginot [search “maginot line”]

no & what or nyet & shto [english or russian]

diploid/diptych bun/chignon [twofolds and hair arrays]

exoskeleton & bone [body frames outer and inner]

rigor mortis/combat zones [telltales of death in progress]

What are undertones? For the sake of this texted image, they are hard-to-hear hints of more than meets the obvious notice. One must pay focused attention to receive the hint, and then one must decrypt it. (“Decrypt? As in exhume?” he said in an undertone.)

This is a fear-of-war poem/image/post. The endword “tones” led me to muse about words ending with t that had a long-o last-syllable pronunciation. I was also mindful of previous use of such words or phrases (remembering, for instance, that I’d used “à bientôt” before) because I don’t like relying too heavily on the same words and phrases to solve the rhyme. Suddenly “Maginot” occurred to me, and a floodgate opened.

The Maginot Line was a barrier erected by the French to save their homeland from invasion, thought to be impregnable. It proved to be not much of a problem for the invading Nazis. Flash forward eighty years, and here in the United States of America, there is advocacy for the expending of resources for a barrier to save the homeland from invasion. It seems as though history’s lessons, though not undertoned, sometimes go unheeded.

That’s how the poem got started. Consider the rest of the message of the poem as a muttered warning. You will need an ear for subtlety to hear and correctly interpret the rest of the message. But you need not work so hard if you wish to simply enjoy an attempt at wordplay through juxtaposition, meter and rhyme.

2019 0726 bete fete

Bête Fete

Bent the Dreams that Stuff’s made of
Être Catherine Deneuve
Topicality made treat
Enter Prizes tout de suite

Mercies/Heavens

Morrie hadda get a trach
Eleanor a Bellyache
Roger took a cuppa Tea
Clementine eschewed TV
Ivan doesn’t want to see
Evangelicals unseen
Send us all beyond our means

And Jacques Prevert in the poem “Chanson” (“Song”) said both “We love and we live” and “And we do not know what is life/And we do not know what is love.” Actually he said both <<Nous nous aimons et nous vivons>> and <<Et nous ne savons pas ce que c’est que la vie/Et nous ne savons pas ce que c’est que l’amour.>> The English version of his quotation is my memory of how I translated it back in 1974 in a second-year French class conducted by Gene Eastin at Glendale Community College. I was a different person then, but my fondness for Prevert’s “Chanson,” which I have just reread, remains.