Why Blog? Why Me?

This past week, I attended a seminar on Networking and Branding. The purpose of the seminar was to persuade the audience to turn over a new leaf.

Copyright James E. Martin 2014 Turning Over a New Leaf

Overall, the content and delivery was fair to poor within the context of the audience that attended. It lacked vitality and relevance. I didn't hear anything new that I didn't already know. The seminar failed in its objective of making the message relevant to working professionals.  The presenter had a challenge to take the precepts of new technologies using social media and persuade old dogs to perform new tricks.

I was able to receive the content more appropriately when I tuned it to my use of the art blog. I was the only individual in the generally older audience that had been actively using electronic social media applications to network and communicate. My takeaway from the seminar based on the discussions and opinions rendered....if you are going to use the tools and applications, one must manage one's time, manage the methods, and manage for intended results in order to stay focused on obtaining effective communications. Things can and do get out of control online.

Why blog over the last few years? To formulate and express my thoughts. I think that is the bottom line of this Journey thus far. For me. Even with the occasional hiatus in the diary. There are times to speak and times to be outwardly silent. The outward silence speaks volumes also.

The Journey of the Creative Pursuit and the Artistic Endeavor is a struggle. It has ups. And downs. Days of movement forward. And days of rest. And days of reconnoitering.

And I think I have been straightforward in my blog objective and profile in outlining that this has been a portrayal of my emerging worldview and perspective. My interest in Art has been a vehicle in which to live deliberately and a lens through which I see the Self. If I haven't been Expressing on the blog, I have been Impressing through reading, observing, and adventures. The adventures have been both outward and inward.

The year 2014 has been a milestone year for me. Improved physical health based on knowledge learned and applied. I can physically walk again. Without chronic pain and discomfort. After 7 years.

Along the way, I think the most valuable skill has been the development of my eyes. I see things. Differently. And seek the Meaning in what I am observing. So the mind and the heart is involved in the selection, filtering, and attenuation of the objects observed. There has been much drawing and painting and sculpting in my head. Because that is how I have been able to successfully manage my time available during the day to accomplish my art. And there has been much enjoyment and self-fulfillment as a result.

It has been a time of Collecting and Gathering. I have a sense over the last few months though that my "Cup is Filled to Overflowing".

However, people around me don't understand the Dream. Especially my family. Those closest to me. I have experienced the rejection that artists receive and write about. The Banter. The Bicker. The Blarney.

I went to a Christmas party last night hosted by some former golf friends. I used to play weekly before my youngest child, Itsy Bit, came along. Perhaps the advent of the child, my chronic health concerns about walking,  and other employment-related duties all converged to keep me from my golf endeavors during the past eight years.

The last Christmas party we had attended with this lively group of folks, was when we brought the baby along in a carrier just after she was born. It's been eight years. The folks were wonderfully still themselves. They love the game. They are a fun-loving, humorous bunch. They are still singing the same set of Christmas carols. It's a lovely tradition.

It was really nice to talk with two of the folks at the party because they are amateur artists also. I connected with them about their current Journey. Made Connections about art stuff. Explored a couple of potential new Commitments. Local Art Clubs. Art galleries. Monthly workshops. Meeting with others on a monthly basis. Picking up picture frames for artwork.

A Connection with one guy who doesn't paint as much as he would like....developing a potential Commitment for Collaboration together to each paint one larger work every two months. To stay in touch about art. And getting together more often to do art. Each of us had a partially finished work-in-progress that had been set aside and we discussed how to get it to Done. Since we summer in the same area in Maine, doing a pleine aire Jaunt in Maine together next year.

So today's activity was about Connecting with others. And renewing Commitments. And reinvigorating the Creative Pursuit and the Artistic Endeavor. Not just inwardly. But outwardly.

Copyright James E. Martin 2014 A Bright Clear Winters Day

A different walk. At a different pace. In a different direction. Networking with folks of like mind. Branding the message. Step by step. Just thinking on things.

The Beginning: Awakening in Innocence

As I reflect on this recent part of my Journey over the last two years and my investigation surrounding Grief, I am reminded that all good stories have a Beginning and an End.  Which makes me think of the first phrase in Ecclesiastes 7:8-14:

8 Better is the end of a thing than the beginning thereof: and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.
9 Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry: for anger resteth in the bosom of fools.
10 Say not thou, What is the cause that the former days were better than these? for thou dost not enquire wisely concerning this.
11 Wisdom is good with an inheritance: and by it there is profit to them that see the sun.
12 For wisdom is a defence, and money is a defence: but the excellency of knowledge is, that wisdom giveth life to them that have it.
13 Consider the work of God: for who can make that straight, which he hath made crooked?
14 In the day of prosperity be joyful, but in the day of adversity consider: God also hath set the one over against the other, to the end that man should find nothing after him.
Dear Reader, think of your own favorite literature or movies. The Epic Story. The Noble Cause. With characters, and drama, and plots that thicken. Tragedies. Comedies. Tragic comedies. With Heroes and Villians. Leading characters. Supporting characters. About families. About famous personages. Countries. Battles. Wars. Politics. The battle between Good and Evil. The telling of History is loaded chock full of fanciful story-telling. The human drama.

The Beginning. All good stories start with one. The sun is shining. It's warm and cozy. The birds are twittering. The camera moves slowly past the Setting to give the ensuing story a context. All is well with the world. Everything is beautiful. There is a sense of confidence in the near term outlook. A feeling of mild anticipation and excitement. This is the Awakening in Innocence. Optimism. The Rosy Outlook. Perfection.

But not for long in most stories. They would be rather boring otherwise. Don't you think?

Recently, I purchased an 1884 rendition of Milton's Paradise Lost complete with fifty engravings by Gustave Dore. I recall seeing many of Dore's engravings as a child. I was amazed at the chiascaro effect of light and dark shading in the engravings from an early age. And the stories within.

Internet Fair Use -  Gustave Dore's Adam's Rib Awakens in Innocence

Milton's Paradise Lost does not start the story with the advent of mankind but rather with the Fall of the Angels and the ensuing Pandemonium. Chaos. Disorder. The differences between the Creator and the Created. The battle between Good and Evil. Power. Thrones. Dominions. Princedoms. Deceit. Intrigue.

But from our perspective, though, I suppose it always seems to start with us. We are rather self-centered in that regard. So many start the story at the beginning of Mankind. From dust we are created. To dust we shall return. The cemeteries and graves are full of quiet evidence. But I am getting ahead of myself so soon.  The story starts out in Paradise, does it not?.  Eve, Adam's Rib, is of the same flesh and blood as the first man. Adam receives his help-meet.  So at Eve's Awakening in Innocence, Adam is

"Leaning, half-raised, with looks of cordial love,
Hung over her enamoured."

We are always enamored over the Beginning of a thing.

An Actionable Dream: Could This be Part of the Journey?

A co-worker friend and I were talking at length after business hours this week. We compared notes on our Daily Walk, things at work, and our career outlook. I guess we talked about some pretty important things to each of us. I was unsettled the next morning and wanted to take some specific action in my life to work through my dilemma and my gut feelings. My friend indicated that she had a dream that helped her decide what she needed to do. We had lunch the next day to share our revelations.

As she told me about her dream, I realized how it would make a great painting or series of paintings. I shared my observations with her and we discussed the concept in greater detail based on her dream, the content, the colors, and the feelings associated with the dream.

In my mind's eye, I believe it is a painting that would potentially have meaning for her throughout her life's Journey. Which is a prime motivation for her sharing the dream and for me to do this painting for her. To go through the project would also be a milestone in my Artistic Endeavor and Creative Pursuit. This may be a Beginning. So it may very well be that this project will become a part of my Daily Walk going forward. I can see how the things I have gone through thus far have prepared me, at least partially, for this. It has the potential to become part of an Original Idea. It might well pull together many of the stylistic approaches I have been dabbling with into an Eclectic Style. Mmmmm. Eclecticism. From the Greek, means "choosing the best" or "selecting out" and "picking". Can the component ideas and styles be pulled into a cohesive whole? Will the final solution be appealing, meaningful, have feeling, and depict the story effectively?

I know that I have some personal challenges. Self-discipline. Commitment to this project. Fortitude. Patience. Can my hands execute what is in my heart and my mind? Aaaaah. This is the creeping in of Self-Doubt that occurs in all things undertaken. A type of fear. An integral part of the Human Endeavor. And so I start this Journey of the JourneyMan. A focus of the Life Energy towards the Artistic Endeavor and the Creative Pursuit.

There is an amorphous fire that burns at the beginning. Life's energy, swirling, churning, bright.... This is only the seed-bulb that begins to grow out of the soil in the beginning of spring advent...like the first crocus peeking out of winter's discontent.....

Copyright James E. Martin 2014 The First Crocus After Winter's Discontent

Climbing Trees: A Momentary View at the Top

Most boys growing up are adventurous up to the point of downright daring and risky. But we were fearless at that age not connecting potential consequences with our actions. The neural relationships in the brain that enable cause and effect realizations emerge in the middle school years. Eight to twelve year old tree climbers aren't there yet. I remember climbing trees avidly in the middle of the forest with no one around. If I had fallen and been injured, no one would have known where I was. But I remember the warm spring and summer days, clear skies, smell of pine straw needles baked by the sun, the sticky sap on my hands as I traversed the branches, evaluating the safe holds, testing the strong boughs for standing postures by sight and by progressive weight application, snaking through the tight spots, trading off the tactical approaches for going up this way or that, and the grand view from the top.

The beginning at the bottom was only an obstacle to be figured out on how to start, and whether I could begin. Ropes, shinny ups, a smaller dead pole tree leaned against the larger to gain the first branches, starting on a close tree and trying to move laterally to the goal tree....all were considerations in how to start the journey. Having few lower branches only presented a puzzle to be solved. In the absolute worst case, a ladder carried in on another day was an alternative solution for a truly magnanimous objective that couldn't be surmounted any other way. I always envied the telephone pole lineman who had waist belts and claw-like toe and heel spikes.

Copyright James E. Martin 2014 Climbing the Lower Pine

It was always the upward first view that offered a glimpse into the thrill of the climb and the portentous view from the top. Yesterday's walk through the arboretum sparked those early yearnings to climb and brought back the memories of New England days gone by.

                                                            Copyright James E. Martin 2014  The Opportunity View

Perched amongst the branches, resting in the clefts of the tree, blood pumping throughout heady considerations, always wondering whether I could complete the journey, higher and higher, looking downward to evaluate the risks of falling, checking myself to figure out what I would do if I slipped, evaluating the reaches required and minimizing the over-reaches that might result in a slip and fall.

                                                       Copyright James E. Martin 2014 The Grand Illumination

Some branches were suitable for my hands to grip and some were much larger where I could only lean against it or encircle it with my arms.

                                                              Copyright James E. Martin 2014 Considering the Endgame

The higher I go, the smaller the branches. The risk increases since they don't carry as much weight. The wind increases and the tree sways a bit more in the breeze. The endgame involves figuring out how high to go on each tree. What's the potential view? What is to be gained? Is it worth the effort? Is there still fun and adventure to be gained?

Some trees are better than others. Some trees after all the effort, are disappointing at the top. To experience the BEST tree climb of your life, you must climb lots of trees with potential. 

The absolute best climb of my life occurred in the middle of a pine forest at the top of a hill. No one with me. At least a half mile from the closest house. I couldn't see the top of the tree for the branches but the base of the pine was humongous and larger than I had ever seen. Perhaps a diameter of 4-5 feet? Or 6? I had never seen anything like it. Perhaps it had never been seen by man or touched in its remote standing. Never trimmed. Natural branches low enough to gain a start without much fanfare. 

It took me a long time to climb this tree. It was a heart throb. I got two thirds of the way up the tree and was surprised to see that I was at the tree tops of all the surrounding pines looking down on them. The rest of the climb was a clear view of the hilltop and the New England mountains to the west. I could see Mount Watatic in the distance. I continued to within about 6-8 feet of the top of the tree as high as I dared to go. I remember a bit of the wind and the sway and the sound of the breeze through the branches and clutching my arms around the limbs. 

As I rested and enjoyed the view of the mountains in the distance trying to figure out whether I was ready to begin the downward descent, a plane approached from the distant west. A HUGE military transport plane headed perhaps to Ft Devens...an active military base at the time but now defunct. Much to my surprise it headed right towards me! I realized the possibility that the tree I was in was about 30-40 feet above all the others, on a hilltop, was silhouetted against the horizon to the pilots, and was probably a milestone landmark being used by them for straight line visual reckoning. In any case, that grayish transport plane with four whirling props with yellow tips came to within about 100-200 feet of me in their flyby just north of me to my right hand side in a gigantic roar. You can imagine I was vigorously waving to the pilot and copilot with a huge grin. If they saw me, and I had the sense that they may have, they would have been as surprised to see a boy in a remote treetop in that moment as I was to see them. I felt the prop wash of the plane as it flew by. What a momentary opportunity! An experience that would never happen again to be sure. Even to this day I cannot believe the coming together of events in time resulting in that experience in time and space. But the moment and the exhilaration passed.

Climbing down a tree was always somewhat tougher than climbing up. There is a lot of decision-making on the way up and I recall a sense of only trying to remember the same path downward. But sometimes it was confusing and you would have to reconnoiter more than once to get down. There was always a sense of wanting to hurry and get it over with but knowing that an urgency to descend added risk. Patience was a virtue. And you were looking downward to the ground distance as well.  An increasing sense of confidence and safety as one gets closer to the ground.

Once on the ground, a flooding sense of relief that all is well and done. I don't recall even telling anyone of my adventure and special moment. Probably because I would have been admonished for the danger.

I never climbed that tree again. I don't really recall ever climbing a tree again although I must have.  Never one of that size or importance. Perhaps I moved on to other types of adventures. Years later, when I returned home from college across the country, I noticed that the forested hills had been clear cut of the big pines and the hardwoods and that smaller trees and brush were all that remained in the area. I took a hike to the hilltop looking for my gargantua but it was not to be found. Someone had the experience of cutting it down to be sure.

Today's walk with the dog and the smell of warm pine straw brought me back to that memory.

I can envision a painting around this tree-top memory in my mind's eye. Reminiscent of a chiascuro Winslow Homer. If I paint it numerous times in my head, am I an artist? Isn't that where a painting always starts anyway...with an observation and an idea?  Am I not an artist if I don't physically paint the picture? 

A Walkabout and a Checkout

Been awhile. Still taking lots of photos on a routine basis. Reading art history in books and online. Thinking about art. Buying some old art at flea markets and antique malls. Took our french poodle-bichon (poo-chon) dog, otherwise known as Grace, on a walk in the local cemetery this a.m..... which is also a turn of the century arboretum. When we go to Maine camp, she is also known as the "beady-eyed american eagle treat" because of her delectable sizing and attractiveness to carnivorous aerial predators.

Copyright James E. Martin, 2014, New England Solitaire

One of the small buildings in the cemetery was caught well in the morning sunlight against the dark forested background for chiascuro effect. Had to test the mobile device again for loading the blog.

I really should do this more often since I enjoy it so. The observing, the picture taking, the artistry, the writing, and the sharing.

My Earliest Drawing Memory: A Railroad Scene

My earliest memory about art was learning to draw from the John Gnagy book. I may even still have a copy of the book around somewhere that I have picked up since for old time's sake.

 Photo Courtesy John Gnagy: Internet Fair Use

Web-world is wonderful to recapture some of these memories with ease. I don't recall ever seeing him on television though. I was probably 8 or 10 years old.

Photo Courtesy John Gnagy: Internet Fair Use

After catching these www images, I remembered drawing the great dane's head within circumscribed cubical volumes to outline the general shape.

 Photo Courtesy John Gnagy: Internet Fair Use

The Whistle Stop series of six, step-by-step, progressive, instructional lessons for linear perspective is my most cogent and earliest recollection. I must have tried several times to get this drawing right in pencil and charcoal. Trains were still around when I was a child so this was a fascinating subject matter for me. One of my parent's dear friends was a railroad switchman and a dairy farmer in Massachusetts. I have fond memories of many farm and railroad anecdotes and events about that hard-working, jovial Finnish man during that time in my life.

Photo Courtesy John Gnagy: Internet Fair Use

Horizons and vanishing points.

Photo Courtesy John Gnagy: Internet Fair Use

Basic shapes to represent forms.

Photo Courtesy John Gnagy: Internet Fair Use

Add shading to enhance shape modeling.

Photo Courtesy John Gnagy: Internet Fair Use

I will never forget trying to get the width of the grain bins and the train tracks uniform.

Photo Courtesy John Gnagy: Internet Fair Use

By this time, adding the details made my drawing different than the example.

Photo Courtesy John Gnagy: Internet Fair Use

Lots of smudges had the potential to make the drawing dirty. I remember lots of erasing and try to get the right amount of dark and light contrast.

 Photo Courtesy John Gnagy: Internet Fair Use

I hadn't seen this drawing before but it seems quite rural idyllic. A short walk along memory lane.