In my never-ending borderline-OCD quest to never waste anything and make something of my by-products, I’ve started keeping a pad of sticky notes on my desk and when I have unused scraps from my collages I add them to a note. Eventually the note becomes its own collage, sometimes more interesting than the “real” collage I was working on. (The note above was made while tidying my desk and talking to the friend on the phone.)
A succession of moons
This morning I read Billy Barr’s tips for social distancing, gleaned from 50 years of experience living in an abandoned mine in the Rockies. The first one was “Keep track of something.”
Later, my friend Mark sent me a post referencing book nine of Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations, in which the emperor reminds himself to take the things in the world and “see them from above” in order to keep them in perspective:
You can discard most of the junk that clutters your mind — things that exist only there — and clear out space for yourself:
…by comprehending the scale of the world
…by contemplating infinite time
…by thinking of the speed with which things change — each part of every thing; the narrow space between our birth and death; the infinite time before; the equally unbounded time that follows.
And it hit me that, duh, looking at the moon checks both those boxes.
Paying attention to the moon phases gives me something to keep track of and helps me think in terms of circular time.
And seeing it up on the sky and thinking about how long it’s been up there and how many generations have looked at it always tends to throw my measly problems into perspective. (Although, I always laugh whenever I think about astronaut Michael Collins admitting he mostly never bothers to look at it.)
Here it was last night from our balcony:
Tonight’s moon will be the brightest of the year. Step outside and take a look!
The belly of the whale
Here is a diary collage that made it to this week’s newsletter but not the blog. (I thought it paired well with Dan Albergotti’s “Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale,” which is the perfect poem for the moment.)
The full Moon always rises near sunset
A collage for my mom on her birthday. Happy birthday, Mom!
Drawings from Pop-Up Magazine
Here are some drawings done in the dark during a Pop-Up Magazine show last weekend. My favorites were, no surprise, two of my favorite artists: Esther Pearl Watson and Liana Finck. (Both of whom I finally got to meet!)
Drawing is often talked about by drawers like me as this ultimate tool for capturing and processing life, but when does drawing pull us out of an experience rather than pull us into it? When does drawing cause us to pay less attention rather than more?
I used to do these kinds of live drawings all the time, and now I find them terribly distracting.
Years ago, when I went to live events, I wanted so badly to be onstage myself that I think I felt drawing was a way of pulling some of that spotlight towards me. Sure, it was a form of sharing, but it was also a “Look at me” kind of thing.
Drawing at performances was itself a kind of performance.
Now that I’m onstage all the time, I want to be offstage. I want to sink into the audience and disappear into the experience. I want to honor the performer by giving them my full attention.
Not sure I can do this while drawing!
- ← Newer posts
- 1
- …
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- …
- 70
- Older posts→