I was stationed at Aces & Kings Cheesesteak last Saturday, Jan. 20, 2018. While I was there, I was playing around demo-ing in Sketch Club on my iPad Pro with my Apple Pencil.
I follow David Crosby on Twitter @thedavidcrosby. I love his voice, his music, and his viewpoints. He’s quite interactive with his many fans, incidentally.
You may recall that I’ve illustroblogged about David Crosby on these very portfoliolongo.com pages, click here for two examples, three now.
After following him on Twitter for a while, I found out that, in addition to everything else I had expected, he’s a good sport. So when I tweeted him the following photo-mash-up, he retweeted it, and for weeks I was receiving notification after notification from Twitter that his fans were liking it, retweeting it, and even commenting on it. I’ll share the mash-up, the tweet’s stats as of today, and one funny comment below:
Stats (as of 1/18/8):
Hey David, if you ever wanna do an endorsement deal they could call them “Croz-oats: The breakfast of Hippies”
Several times a day I see that Water Tower Down There Again and again. It’s the same water tower I’ve rendered over and over, please click here to see the other renderings. I usually see it while I’m walking Cowboy, and since it’s located between us and the sunrise to the east, the views are generally more dramatic on our morning walks. I cherish that water tower in ways that encapsulate and set me free.
iPad Pro, Apple Pencil, Sketch Club, iColorama, and Procreate
Back to my roots: Videodigital Leitmotif. Turn your sound on, and say that 10 times.
Videodigital Leitmotif, Videodigital Leitmotif, Videodigital Leitmotif, etc.
In the Spring of 2016 Annyth and I spent a week with a group of 17 people at a villa (Can Pares) on the outskirts of Sitges in the Penedès wine and cava region in Catalonia, celebrating the 60th birthday of a friend. Located next door was a winery in a former castle, Torre del Veguer, which I featured in another post on this illustroblog.
Here’s a digital painting of Torre del Veguer, which I had printed on canvas as a gift of gratitude for our friend, Marjorie, the birthday girl.
Procreate, iColorama, iPad Pro, Apple Pencil
Partial progress video:
Here’s a digital image for you, one I’m calling, “Surfacing.” It’s not a very Christmas-like image…at first glance; however, there is “divine birth” dimension. Where? How? WTF?
As a beginner in the practice of meditation, mindfulness, and yoga, I’ve discovered something about the content of my own attention and the breadth of its span. Most of what I pay attention to has nothing to do with the actual spatial and temporal dimensions of the situations that I inhabit; and my five senses usually just go along for the ride throughout the day. That’s another way of saying that I’m rarely “in the moment.” Most of the time my mind is automatically wandering and dragging around clusters of feelings that reside in my muscles’ memories. I’m basically flying around and around in a bird cage whose little door is wide open but somehow hidden from my view.
I ruminate, therefore I am; and my rumination is my ruination. All of that highly-evolved cognitive activity that we call thinking, so necessary for our survival as a species, keeps us alive and incarcerated by decommissioning our senses. If we can’t see the open door, we won’t fly away. We’re taught to fear freedom by our own trauma. The curriculum for this self destruction is saturated in our flesh and bones; at the collective level it’s encoded in our enculturation and socialization processes to keep the entire flock from flying away.
Sometimes when I’m on my cushion, my mat, or my iPad Pro, I lean into an arbitrary assignment automatically delivered to me by this mostly destructive curriculum. I do so because I’ve learned that avoiding or denying them nourishes them. I’ve learned that leaning in requires an effort, takes practice, and yields dividends. I wonder if it’s a sin to vacate the Present Moment?
“Surfacing” is the result of one of these leaning into’s. Yesterday I managed to notice the compulsive appearance of one of these arbitrary assignments as it surfaced. Rather than repressing it and the scary feelings accompanying it, I entertained it momentarily before it disappeared. It grabbed the tissues of the moment I inhabited and the body I inhabit. It seemed real. With its sharp claws it tugged at and stretched the membrane of the living moment encapsulating me…until…poof!
By the time I noticed exhaling, it was gone, Merry Christmas, and another assignment had arrived.
For a 32-second video of the making of Pence, click here.