At the Bar for Hours

A couple of days ago I woke up and found that my iPad Pro hadn’t charged at all even though it was plugged in all night long. A subsequent series of frustrating online chats and telephone calls with several technicians, and even a brand new, replacement iPad Pro that, for some reason, wouldn’t allow me to restore two recent backups from my iTunes drove me to the nearest bar! Yes, the Genius Bar, 35 miles away.

I’m up and running again, thank goodness (and Apple Care), but I did have to spend several hours at the bar trouble shooting. Plan A didn’t work. Plan B didn’t work. Finally, Plan C worked; and I walked away with most of my data, a new device, and this image, which I started in Sketch Club and finished in Procreate.

At the bar for hours

Freedom

Freedom

  • Free to stay.
  • Free to leave.
  • Bags packed either way.

[Sketches Pro. iPad Pro. Apple Pencil. Another monastic memory.]

Retro-Hydrant: Murdock & Hutchinson

Neo-retro Hydrant

The fire hydrant, i.e., fire plug, is a recurring theme here at portfoliolongo, as illustrated by several posts – 7 or so? – tagged as such right here on this illustroblog.

Thanks to Google Maps and my iPad’s screenshot capability, I was able to travel across the continent – and back in time a little – to the very first fire hydrant in my life on the corner of Murdock St. and Hutchinson Ave. in Canonsburg, PA.

(click on image to enlarge)

(click to enlarge)

Here you see a modern representation of my native fire plug so that you can better picture me, not long after Alaska and Hawaii achieved statehood, small enough to sit with my butt on the main outlet cap, my legs straddling the secondary outlet caps, while holding onto the head of the hydrant. I would be facing the building on the corner, which at that time was Marcantonio’s market. A large mail box used to be right in front of the fire hydrant against the building. The bigger kids used to sit on top of it. We were all assuming our positions in a tradition that seemed to have neither a beginning nor an ending.

Sketch Club, Procreate, iPad Pro, Apple Pencil, Memory Lane

Moon above Sé Cathedral of Angra do Heroísmo

On our way back to the hotel after dinner last night, we saw the moon hovering above the Sé Cathedral of Angra do Heroísmo, a Portuguese 16th-century cathedral located in the civil parish of Sé, in the municipality of Angra do Heroísmo, on the island of Terceira in the archipelago of the Azores. I was reminded that some believe that the Moon Goddess is more powerful than the Sun God and isn’t afraid to come out at night.

Sé Cathedral and Moon

Procreate, iColorama, iPad Pro, Apple Pencil

Crack’O Dawn

Crack'O Dawn

Click to enlarge to full size: 2732 x 2048

Tayasui Sletches II

Fifty Something Something or Another

Fifty Something Something or Another

Click on image to enlarge to full size: 2048 x 2048.

You know this one would be fun to drive in Cuba or Merced. There it sits on North Parsons Ave..

 

Mapping Isobarks in Dog Owners’ Sound Sheds

OK, I may be introducing some new terms and concepts here, so bear with me. If you Google sound shed, you’ll notice that sound shed has already been coined. However, it seems to have been fashioned somewhat literally, as in sounds in an actual shed out back. I’m using the term in a more figurative way, as in the way shed is used in water shed, where shed is like an amorphous vault within which phenomena can be associated, conceived, or perceived. For years I’ve used the expression view shed, and I don’t think I coined that. Similarly, smell shed; although, I haven’t heard or seen that used by anyone else, but imagine suddenly strolling into a hot, humid, summer, nightblooming jasmine, smell shed or rolling down your window at the landfill’s smell shed or being stuck in a meeting within a former hippie’s patchouli smell shed. So why not sound? Sound travels, and it wafts into a transterritorial volume that could, not easily, be measured in cubic increments, and if you’re situated within that dome, voluntarily or involuntarily, and if you’re equipped at least average hearing capability, then you and your normal ears are in a sound shed. If you’re lucky, it’s an outdoor concert, and your ears and other senses are being delighted, especially if you’ve already acquired a contact high because of associated smell-shed activity. If you’re unlucky, you’re in the sound shed of someone driving a vehicle that can barely hold itself together because every part is vibrating loose in response to awefully loud and offensive music; but, this is temporary. It passes.

If you’re really unlucky, you may find yourself held captive in an irresponsible dog owner’s sound shed, at the center of which is one or more innocent dogs. That’s what inspired this drawing. Let me emphasize that I find the owners culpable and not the dogs. They, these owners, as I have illustroblogged about elsewhere – oh, and here too – are speaking through their pets, and their message, encrypted as it is, is clear: “Forget about tranquility!”

Now, “Isobarks?” This is simply a way to visualize and measure the content and shape of this kind of sound shed. They’re self explanatory; but, if you have any questions, please feel free to use the comment section below.

Also, I have to be somewhat forgiving. In the first place, I have a dog. When my wife and I are away, and he’s alone, I’m not sure whether he’s creating a temporary sound shed with bright red isobarks. If so, well, I guess you could use the comment section below to create a complaint shed.

isobarks and sound sheds

Morning Water Tower

Morning Water Tower

GMC Pickup Truck, El Portal and N. Parsons in the foreground. Water tower in the background.
Procreate, iColorama, Apple Pencil, iPad Pro

Left on R Street…

…right in front of me, here in Merced, CA.
Based on one of the last photos I took using my iPhone the other day before the camera went on the fritz.
Left on R Street
Procreate, iPad Pro, Apple Pencil, iColorama