searches. What are people looking for? I am just curious. More recent work
can be found if you click on the mast head. Thank you for visiting.
Grocery list found at bus stop, sitting on the ATCO building ledge.
I think of lazy summer days, when we were children with little to do, finding ways to entertain ourselves.
Activity books printed on newsprint were easy enough to pick up at Super S or K-Mart. Grab a pencil or a crayon and start playing Tic-Tac-Toe, hangman, mazes, find the word, match games, color pictures and connect the dots.
Out of habit, I doodle when I talk on the phone or waiting for files to upload or download. I end up with a few scrap notebooks full of these little drawings.
Random lines drawn on four inch by six-inch paper. Subconscious particles of incomplete images and thoughts, the flotsam and jetsam of a restless mind. You may read what you will from the little images, meanings may be formed in your own mind. Such is the way of human nature, to find meaning in all things.What if things have no need for meaning?
I hit the next blog button a few times, just to see what would come up. I saw many entries from different people on this planet- writings of their travels, loves and loss in their lives, pursuits of dreams, the search for knowledge and the desire to make contact with other cultures. No matter the language there are many Universal truths. One is that we are not meant to be alone. We are beings that require companionship, friendship and family. That our lives are made richer for the love and human contact we gain in our lives.
The best and the worst of Humankind can be found on the Internet. Blogs are like tiny satellites that we launch into the void. Broadcasting our hopes and fear, dreams and nightmares, love and hate. Many search for an audience. Some exist simply to be, a record of one life of thoughts cast out on a net that covers one planet.
Does it need meaning? All our efforts and struggles on this world do not have to come to one FINAL goal. Life is not about the destination it is about the journey.
The BEST thing about drawing: A blank page can fill up so quickly when you let your imagination run wild.
I have had the Photoshop program for a couple of years now, but I've not taken any courses to properly use it. I am learning as I go, which is the case for all new technology that I encounter. It is always rewarding to try something new, you learn whether you like it or not.
In previous drawings done in P.S. I always ended up drawing over the lines- I could not retain the original line art, something very basic. I found my way around that, and this is the result.
I will have to some homework and research on P.S.Knowing how to use an Art Tool- the exploration is always the fun part. Funny thing is, I would miss getting the paint on my hands.
I spent way too much time doodling in my note books in elementary and high school. If I had received credit for those, I would have been done a lot faster. At ART college I didn't have to draw in my class notes, I had most of my days creating ART.
These postcards have brought back the "random doodle"-the only difference: I'm not limited to four colors of a ball point pen. (Red,green,blue and black-those blue and white clickable ones)
# 18- The kid with the hat and gotee' is Bone-apart a little character from an old sketchbook, still lurking in the back of my mind. The lanky one is a reaction to FREZATTO an artists/writer who's work I'm currently reading, but not while I'm typing.
GarSeeYa!!!- your comments would be very much appreciated, I'd just like to know who's out there?
Yesterday was my wife's birthday. Another year. Another decade.
We celebrate the blessings in our life.
I decided to make a trip to the Calgary Tower, to surprise M.
This would be the first bus ride for Zachary. After lunch we quickly got ready to make the bus on time.
It was wet and foggy when we got outside, the drizzle landed on Zachary, a million beads of crystals on feathery hair. I took a picture of him standing on the sidewalk before the # 13 came down the street. The Bus driver gave us a smile as I stepped on to the big white bus.
Zachary sat on my knee, in a gentle hug. I often think of "hugging my inner child" when I hold him in my arms. Thinking how much time my Father lost away from his children working so hard early in our lives. Time you never get back. I cherish the time I have with Zach, as we wind through the wet streets. Looking out at the houses and empty playground.
We ride through the corridor of million dollar houses of lower Mount Royal, perfect facades for people who can afford them. Rarely do I see the families that live in them.
The route went into downtown. We got off at the Bay, about three blocks from the Tower.
I showed Zachary some of the unique architecture and sculptures on Stephen Avenue. Touching the masonry, sculpted stone and metalwork of converted banks. Zack tugged on the tail of an iron horse outside of Saltlick's, which gave a little clang as he let go.
M- was not at the front desk when we arrived at the Tower. We peeked through twenty-foot tall windows looking into the lobby. "Mom" Zachary stated, pointing at the picture of the Tower used as a backdrop for the photographers at reception. Brian, the man at the counter directed me to where M- was, cashing out in the tiny office. I poked Zachary's head into the door to hear an excited "Hi Punkin!"from my wife.
We made the rounds as M- showed Zachary to some of her co-workers. Zachary was not too impressed meeting so many people. A trip to the top of the landmark was in order and standing on the new glass floor was long over due. We looked down through the fog at little cars on slick black streets, how little noise a city makes from high above.
We stopped at a water fountain at the Encana building. Zach got his hands wet, surrounded by tropical plants, touching the azure painted bottom.
Burgers and fries, grilled chicken salad was ordered at Dairy Queen. We sat in a booth where Zach was preoccupied with eating catsup dipped with a straw.
We made our way home on a crowded bus. A box of yellow roses sat on my lap, water spilling out of an unstable vase. Zachary cuddled on M- knees as he suckled on a milk bottle. Windows steamed. Windshield wipers waved like a metronome. We got out at the stop and walked to our house around the corner. A nap was next on the agenda.
I spent a little time out on the patio deck on a cool Sunday afternoon,doing postcard sketches.My inlaws have a few toys large and small scattered about the house.They could almost start a little Toy Museum.Various items like Lego Blocks,Easy Bake Ovens,Barbies a ton of stuffed animals and dolls.They have a lot of experience,having been played with by four girls and passed down to their own children.
I missed my bus coming home yesterday.I had half an hour to wait ,so I did a postcard sketch.It has been years since I made Art on street level.A few years ago,when I worked downtown, I was sketching down here on a regular basis.Times change,much like the downtown core.One of the constants has been this statue in front of the Hudsons Bay Company-(if you ask me the title for the statue,I could not tell you)
Sat on a funky smelling bench,residual energy from the semi-permanent residence of Stephen Avenue.Tourists take pictures of the statue and a converstion goes on the pay phone as I draw.Wedding photographs are taken at the crosswalk,the second one I'd seen in a month.
Half an hour can go by so quickly...yet a billion things occured with little thought.