There is probability and then there is probability, sometimes when the odds are just too outrageous, even mathematical possibility seems just plain silly. Nowhere in scientific inquiry is this phenomenon more apparent than in the theories for the origin of life on Earth. Speculations based on a much too young fossil record and hunches about original atmospheric conditions have given us things like the Big Bang Theory and Primordial soup. The lucky lightning bolt has to hit the soup at the right moment in order to properly cook the stuff into amino acids and proteins, then a few more perfect lightning bolts to eventually get an amoeba. Then, after several more lucky breaks our amoeba will crawl out and invent the smart phone. This is all possible by a combination of Time plus Chance; with enough Time and enough Chance anything is possible! And they call me delusional for believing in a Creator/God. I think Time plus Chance equals Chaos.
There are no decent transitional fossils between chimp and Human, fish and bird, etc. The “Missing Links” we do have are sadly insufficient. This leads to the difficult possibility that Creation is still an option – Creation is no less probable. But that could all change if archaeologists finally found the perfect missing link.
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Exercising absolute freedom is an artist’s strange and wondrous privilege. What will I make when left to my own unfettered whims? First, making the allowance for whim might mean shaking off the political and historical pressure to conform. It might also mean shaking off the responsibility inherent in having an education and years of professional experience. Second, it means letting that earlier, younger self out of his repressive prison. My younger self seems to be motivated by an aesthetic focused on both the absurd and coolness.
“Race With the Devil” emerged from the racing scenes in the film “American Graffiti”, and the imagery in the song “Last Kiss”. Cool hot rods with supercharged motors, Mickey Rats and mythical beasts set the scene for the Bad Boy Rebel racing the Devil to the death. Influenced no doubt by the anti-racing propaganda forced on kids in the 1950′s and ’60′s. Danger is seductive.
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The top half is based on an old 17th century etching complete with a few Latin terms: “Providentia” for Providence, the all-seeing Eye of God; and “Fama Bona” and “Fama Mala” good news and bad news. I was thinking about the curse God placed on Adam and Eve when they were kicked out of the Garden after they committed the Original Sin. He cursed Eve with pain in child-bearing (crying baby), Adam with the struggle to grow food by the sweat of his brow (crops and the need for government subsidy), and then He cursed us all with the little Generation Z girl and her ubiquitous smart phone. Fear (the dog), greed, violence, vice, chance, and gambling are all depicted in the card game. It’s rather tricky to jam pack the entire history of the world in an 8 x 10 space; I left out famine pestilence and war, but that could simply be more Fama Mala.
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After months of exclusively drawing in tiny moleskine sketchbooks (view them HERE) I have finally started making 8 x 10 ink drawings on “vellum” paper. I’m using Uniball Signo #207 Gel Pens which are waterproof, chemical proof, acid-free and completely archival museum quality, they dry instantly – and are very cheap ($1.25 ea.) Farewell India ink, croquille nibs and dipping. Farewell Koh-I-Noor tech pens and refilling and cleaning. You can also watercolor right over this Uniball ink with no smear or bleed. OK, my sales pitch is over.
Madonna at the Wall of Death is a little experiment with high and low. Of all high art the altarpiece is perhaps the highest, and the Madonna and Child perhaps most high. This is based on the 1735 Luis Nino painting, “Our Lady of the Victory of Malaga.” I was thinking that since Jesus is a little five year old boy, where would she like to take Him for an outing? I know where I would want to go when I was five, to the Wall of Death bloodsport motorcycle races of course! What could be lower than that? A few skeletal grim reapers would be in attendance to capture a few brave fallen riders to boot.
| Tags: drawing, ink, Madonna, motorcycle, wall of death | More: art, Christianity, Low brow
Sure, life could be easier. I could have a paid off mortgage, a time-share in Florida, plenty of cash for all that little stuff. I could have a skeleton I could trust, and not be deathly afraid of falling and breaking it to smithereens. Sure, I could be in remission without the need to be on a study drug that will never go to market. But, I survive. And I can never complain.
They gave me two years to live and it has been twelve – wow! – ten extra years. “Ya gotta’ be happy with that!” Sure, I’m happy with that, but I would rather live to be an old geezer like everyone else, I don’t want it cut short. But, I’m getting used to the idea of a potential Multiple Myeloma relapse and early death. The relapse three years ago wasn’t nearly as frightening as the original shock of the “C” word in 2005.
Surviving means finding a place for the guilt, as well as the sense of inadequacy. There is also the accumulated responsibility that increases with the “specialness” of surviving. All three things – guilt, inadequacy, and specialness – are hoaxes and smoke up your butt. Survivors just have a little less physicality to work with, we have bad days sometimes. Sure, I feel lucky to be alive most of the time, but the ever-present pending doom keeps me on my toes.
| More: art, artists, Christianity, Comics, Sketchbook
We often speak about the onslaught of images we see in the digitized 21st century as overwhelming, but I see this as normal. We have long been conditioned to quickly read and process the visual barrage and store what we can for future reference. Experiencing visual stimuli before the digital revolution depended more on our proximity to the sources: TV, newspapers, magazines, movies, books, window shopping, and all matter of print media. Advertisers specialized in “finding viewers” and getting us to choose their channel, or pick their magazine off the rack. Access to images was diverse and fairly dependent on the fickle agency of the viewer. “Browsing” was a physical act which moved your feet from store to store. Now, the images are all on The Screen, and we carry that screen in our pockets, and we pull it out one hundred times a day. Now, we “research” items and seek the Holy Grail called “free shipping”. Now, we go directly to the advertiser. Now, we actually pay to wear his logo.
In the Analog Age our stimulus was less diverse but far richer. C. M. Coolidge’s Poker Playing Dog paintings have had a special influence on kids for over 100 years, myself included. I vaguely recall my uncle had a copy of the dogs in his basement card room where they played Sheepshead and drank Blatz beer in Milwaukee during the early 1960′s. The kids might wander downstairs into the loud smokey room to snatch a handful of pretzels or a piece of the “good” sausage. There it hung as a backdrop to the real poker players. Originally intended to sell cigars, those bad dogs were smoking and drinking and gambling — three major vices we were warned about as children (which our parents practiced religiously).
Black and white Popeye cartoons had beautiful black shadows under the characters. Mickey Mouse was in his purest form in Steamboat Willie. The Camel cigarettes pack was my only glimpse at the “Exotic”. The tiny drawings within the Mad Magazine logo represented camp, burlesque, nudity, and the secret world of the forbidden.Why are we as children so drawn to the scatological, the naughty, and the bad? It was a working class visual fantasy world of low-brow mischief and cool, and I couldn’t get enough. If you want to get to Heaven, ya gotta raise a little Hell. Here’s to A Little Hell.
| More: art, camel. popeye, Comics, Sketchbook
It seems that Hieronymous Bosch was the goofiest painter of the Renaissance. He single-handedly brought the grotesque to the highest level. Along with his hard nosed moral depictions and allegorical forays, Bosch brought the ugly every-day burger into his work. Even his renderings of Christ have a dopey schlubb kind of expression. There is almost nothing contemporaneously written about him and little else known, but, he has always been one of my favorites.
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The Junkmen that I saw were older Black Men with beater junkyard pickup trucks slowly wandering through the alleys of inner-city Milwaukee. The way they piled up the junk was a sculptural miracle, far better than any preacher’s art car. The radiator would pour out a little steam, the tailpipe a little blue smoke, mismatched fenders and wheels, pulling a homemade trailer. Somehow he reduced the waste while making a living in scrapping it all. The invisible infrastructure every city needs. So, if you have something decent to get rid of don’t take it to the for-profit Goodwill store, put it in the alley for the Junkman. 4-color Lithograph, 9 x 12.
| Tags: art, junkman, lithograph, martens, recycling | More: art, contemporary, printmaking
Like the drummer who started out hitting pots and pans on the kitchen floor as a child, the artist remembers drawing pictures as soon as he could hold a crayon. I am no exception, drawing family members, houses, pets, cars, soldiers, spaceships, monsters, aliens, and every comic strip in the newspaper. In Junior High school I started on the typical path drawing caricatures of teachers, friends and politicians and eventually trying to master chrome.
It was in High School that entirely original drawings dominated my output, including surrealistic worlds, and every kind of counter-cultural experience. It was drawing for the sake of drawing, spending endless hours listening to FM radio and drawing. The elapse of time had no meaning.
Forty years later, I now spend a few hours each morning drawing in my little moleskine sketchbook. I alternately copy from the great artists and also draw whatever comes to mind each day. I do not have any plans but I do try to compose each page and finish every drawing. I feel like a kid again, time whips by, and I can see a marked improvement in skill and speed. I’m able to jam more and more complexity into these tiny pages. If I can do it, you can do it. The hard part is starting. You can view all the sketchbook pages HERE.
| Tags: apocalypse, comics, drawing, durer, michelangelo, Sketchbook, y5p5 | More: art, Comics, Sketchbook
Old dogs really can learn new tricks. I have always kept a sketchbook since the 1970′s, but I’ve never made it a daily practice. When I came across artists who did in fact draw every day – I was in awe. Their sketchbooks were loaded with everyday scenes, doodles, designs, patterns, notes, and quotes. I sporadically used the sketchbook for doodles and quotes from books I read, and ideas for future prints.
One day I decided to start practicing drawing characters for a graphic novel, and began filling up all my sketchbooks. I was getting a little burned out so I pulled out a Gustave Klimt book, took a cup of coffee and my tobacco pipe out to the balcony and began to copy Klimt. Next morning I copied Frank Stella, Next morning Max Earnst, then Max Beckmann, Aubrey Beardsley, Giorgio di Chirico, Oskar Kokoschka, Modigliani, Marianne von Werefkin, Fred Stonehouse, Tony Fitzpatrick, Enrique Chagoya, Alfred Kubin, Danny Lyon, Franz Marc, Dali, Daumier, and several obscure Russian Futurists.
I was on a roll and needed more sketchbooks, I was hooked and the Summer weather beckoned me to my tree surrounded balcony. I started to actually compose my tiny moleskine sketchbook pages as little finished works. My original drawings were getting better and I started to use color and more complex crosshatching. Now I can honestly say daily drawing in the sketchbook has become my habit, I wonder if I can do same thing with exercise? I have scanned these pages and created a new category in Gallery called Sketchbooks, see the complete works HERE.