testing

“THE LADY WHO USED TO FEED HIM HAS MOVED AWAY and Other Incredibly Sad Dog Cartoons, compiled and with an essay by Bruce Simon” is my personal nomination for a coveted 2018 Pick-Of-The-Litter(ature) Award.

Though self-published, this is a very rare book. A wide variety of readers may approach the content for distinctly different reasons. While the book appeals to me as a cartoonist, animal lovers will find much to savor, too. Though oblivious to the charms of cross hatching, they will ponder the plight of dogs living in a world run by hairless apes. Child readers will be intrigued by more than the doggie stuff, and rich details of a bygone era will certainly broaden their horizons. They may also notice that the children in these strips are often in alliance with animals against overbearing adults. And cultural aficionados justly deserve to have their snouts rubbed in the overt sentimentality--ranging from bathos to pathos--that drips from these enchanting pages, in order to remind them of the power of great cartooning.

The book also provides ample evidence of the changing social standards towards animal cruelty. A couple of cartoons feature boys entrusted with the task of killing unwanted litters of puppies and kittens. These days if a kid was caught red-handed throwing a potato sack of live kittens (plus rocks) into a creek he would doubtless be the grist for local evening news and would wind up in a psychiatrist’s office. Back in the era when these cartoons were done, such a heinous act would be seen merely as an unpleasant household chore to be done, lest a severe spanking be endured (which would also make today’s evening news and warrant psychological intervention).
 
 The subtle emotional range dogs constantly exhibit in demeanor and posture are shown with the deft simplicity of masterful pen work by several great craftsmen of the early 20th century. As an added bonus there is a brief bio of each:
CLARE BRIGGS
H. T. WEBSTER
J. R. WILLIAMS
ED DODD
FRANK BECK
STANLEY LINK
The stunning back cover is done by FRANCES "EDWINA" DUMM

  The images tend to be deceptively simple, but facial expressions and postures replicate life in a way that photographs rarely do. These are done with rapid line work that not only respects each animal; newspaper deadlines also had to be respected. This exquisite gallery of cartoons is a testimony to artistic grace under pressure. It's hard to believe that newspapers were once almost twice the size of what they are now. This scale permitted fine detail work and substantive text that readers came to expect for the few pennies they paid. When television replaced print as the main source of news, shrinking advertising income led to cost-cutting measures such as reduced page count and smaller page dimensions. The pared down cartoon format could no longer handle rich detail work so a minimal style driven by writing, not art, came to rule the day. The success of the main theme in most of these drawings--the plight of the dog in the world of man--is dependent on the generous scale of the background. There is great artistry involved in creating backgrounds that dramatize without dominating the human and canine subjects. Other than Bill Griffith's "Zippy" I can't think of any regular feature today that is staged with such lush tonal patterns, deep perspective space with full figures on a ground plane--crafted with traditional dip pens.

In his introductory pages, Bruce explains the genesis of the project and his motivation for seeing it thorough. He also looks back at a lifetime of scissoring cartoons from newspapers and archiving them in scrapbooks. These will eventually be sent to the world famous Billy Ireland Cartoon Museum at Ohio State University. His appreciation for the art form is met with equal fervor by his compassion for animals. His statement epitomizes both subjects:
     "These cartoonists, famous for their ability to observe and convey the everyday humor of domestic life, childhood and the human condition tried, with these bleak looks at helplessness that met with indifference and abandonment, to open the hearts of their readership to needs beyond their own, and that is something unique in my lifetime study of the form."

There is a delightful drawing by Carol Lay on the title page and Noah Van Sciver did a colorized version of an H T. Webster panel for the cover. HIs palette nicely conveys the somber subject matter from which the book's title is taken: A dejected pooch, a trusting creature of habit, lingers outside the gate of an empty house.

By purchasing a book for a mere $10, you are contributing that full amount to the Muttville Senior Dog Rescue in San Francisco. Bruce Simon will handle out-of-pocket the printing, shipping and handling. A Paypal can be sent to kinevideo@aol.com or you could contact him there and get his mailing address if you'd prefer to send a check. Muttville (founded in '07) has been recognized for its groundbreaking approach to animal rescue. It's cage-free facility, focusing on foster outreach, has an on-site veterinary suite and its hospice program are wonderful innovations that have been lauded and emulated around the country. Cartoonists: Please don't try to short the IRS by claiming this book as both charitable giving and then do some sneaky double-dipping by also listing it as a deduction for printed materials (to which you are annually entitled).

The technical quality of self-publishing is now on par with the highest standards of trade press production. There is something to be said for this direct relationship with the final book, especially in reducing waste, as each order is filled and mailed on a per unit basis. Of course, it's very time consuming and frustrating to hawk your own wares. But let's face it, very few of us are able to scratch a living from this arcane field. When you are motivated by love, such concerns are incidental. A steady one permeates every page of this little volume.

On Killing Your Toilet

In addition to a wrench and bucket, you'll also need about 3 minutes of attention span to read the following instructions. To "Kill Your Toilet" you must first do some simple yet invasive surgery on your kitchen sink. It may be that you'll have to borrow the kind of wide-mouth wrench needed for this little project. It's got to be big enough to fit around the fluted knob or large hexagonal nut that's keeping the U-shaped pipe under the sink in place. It's got to go...

Dishwater is the primary source of the greywater that you'll
constantly be carrying to your toilet (and you could also have an
auxiliary set-up with your bathroom sink). When that U-shaped
pipe is gone, the little straight segment of pipe that goes up to
the drain will empty directly into your bucket. I recommend a
2 gallon type with a pouring edge.

You'll want to seal off the pipe that was attached to the other
end of the U-joint. If you don't, there will be fumes from the
fetid drainwater now trapped there.

As for the toilet itself, all you have to do is turn off the little
handle which controls its water intake, usually located near the
baseboard. Your next flush will be your last. That's it! The toilet
is now "dead" because from this day forward you'll be pouring
your dish water into the reservoir tank behind it. Provided that
your drain water was strained prior to filling the bucket, your
toilet won't even know that it's a goner. Millions of gallons of
tap water could be conserved this way.

Let your co-workers, friends, roommates, spouse, children and
loved ones crow about how eccentric you are. They are just naive
fools who dispatch their bodily waste products into our rapidly
diminishing lifesource as if there were no tomorrow.

Stained Glass Design

These designs were commissioned for the front door of a friend in Cincinnati in '05. Each pane represents a season and has the initial of one of the family members. I didn't do the actual fabrication.

My Drawing Table

This is a versatile drawing table/easel system that functions as an adjustable light table, too. The construction is very simple, yet it's sturdier than commercially available drawing tables. Though my primary medium is pen and ink, I also use it for water media and enamel painting.

A) My drawing surface of choice is thick plate glass. I like to feel the ultra smooth, non-yielding surface under the paper. That forces an awareness of the paper quality and enhances the sense of touch. There is no universal pen point that works with all types of substrates. Ink consistency must be constantly monitored. The glass comes in handy when a backlight is needed.

B) Here the backlighting is shown. Though this placement is sufficient for most jobs, the lamp can easily be raised for art that requires lots of detail work at its top edge. For prolonged use, I sometimes use tinted glass instead of clear, but the paper alone is usually thick enough to avoid eyestrain.

C) For oversize work when backlighting is not an issue, I prefer to use a thin steel sheet. Small magnets make minute adjustments of paper quite simple. The plate glass acts as a brace, so that the steel sheet doesn't bend backwards at the top. It provides a very rigid surface, which is important for doing detail work or scribing long fluid lines.

D) This is the base seen from behind. Notice how the central strut has a long slot into which it is placed. By inserting blocks of various thickness there, the drawing angle can be adjusted. Generally speaking, this low level shown is most ideal for watercolor, while I prefer the steeper angle shown in earlier photos for pen and ink. This is entirely a personal choice.

E) Here's how it looks from the front. What cannot be seen from the photograph is that there are a series of holes drilled a regular intervals into the flat vertical supports.

F) Carriage bolts inserted through the holes allow for the placement of a cross brace in case the lower part of the artwork has to be carefully articulated, or perhaps a small sign painted. This makes the work a lot easier on the spine, too.

An Unfamiliar Medium

  

"Dunsmore Park,' Lithographer's Crayon, 5" x 8.5", '09

  In the post-mortem dispatching of personal effects, items that were of great value to the Departed may be overlooked, while conventional items may get cherished and coveted by family and friends. So for that reason, I have made a premature disbursement of this little drawing to my dentist and wife, who happens to be his assistant and bookkeeper.

  I drew this on site from my truck window with the complete certainty that I had just suffered either a heart attack or some major coronary event. It was Spring of ’09. I returned from a working trip to St. Louis, where I had spent an entire week immersed body and soul in an installation at the White Flag gallery there. The long hours and intense pace didn’t seem unusual to the crew I was working with—all men in their early thirties.  I got into the spirit of the event, which was part Dionysian, owing to the free-flowing spirits.

  When I awoke on my first morning back in Cincinnati, I couldn’t move. There was a relentless pain and pressure in my chest. As I weighed my options, I was fully conscious. If I lay perfectly still I would experience only a dull persistent central body ache that was semi-bearable. I eventually navigated from being fully prone to shuffling around bent at the waist, clutching my chest. I was in a game of Hamlet, veering between pretending nothing had happened to “something has to be done.” In all likelihood, the latter would include being cracked open like a walnut by interns, followed by the loss of our home. My wife was uncharacteristically panicked by my behavior, which included long stints of sitting on the kitchen floor with legs fully straight. It seemed to help when I pushed my back against the kitchen cabinets.

  I was eventually able to drive. Though funds were rapidly diminishing, I persisted in my Do Nothing regimen. I drove to my favorite local haunt, a little park near a Jewish Cemetery. On this beautiful afternoon I took out sketchbook and lithograph crayons, a medium that I had been dabbling with for years, but had never quite mastered. While it has its virtues: tonal subtleties, spontaneity, rich darks, simplicity (no messy tubes, jars or brushes)—erasing is not possible. As with watercolor, there is a narrow tolerance for screwing up.

  Through the pleasurable and intense work of looking at nature, even this tamed variety, I was able to deflect my worry about my condition. Of course, I was aware that life was precious beyond all the worth with which I had, up until that point, imbued it. I wanted to record my seeing in that heightened state of awareness. dove into the unfamiliar medium, only seeing and feeling. In that narrow window, I became adept with the lithograph crayon. Truthfully, I would enjoy doing this kind of work exclusively if I somehow had the means to sell it on a regular basis. But I am known as a graphic wise-guy and that is apparently my artistic destiny.

  As for the chest pain, with my last $100 I went to an acupuncturist. I told her that I was an old hippie. I wanted her to see if there was any way she could tell if there had been some coronary event, or if perhaps the pain came from another source. To my astonishment, she found that the source of the relentless chest pressure was a nerve trapped under the rib cage. The St. Louis session exacerbated a long-dormant condition that had been caused by an incident nearly three decades earlier. After defacing a billboard, I slipped and fell on the plank beneath, cracking some lower ribs. When I heard the news that all symptoms had a concrete physical cause unrelated to my heart, I began the process of consciously healing. I've never stopped since.

  This little drawing, deft and non-provocative, is a souvenir of one afternoon when I stared mortality down and found delightful life instead. It is now in the hands of people I greatly respect, who perform their daily artistry at an intensity few “fine” artists will ever know.  I hope it will provide some solace to their patients, lost in Novocain reveries.

Ex Libris Bookplates II

This is a continuation of the previous post. Sorry for the lapse--life got int the way.

Ex Libris Bookplates I

L ike postage stamps and wine labels, modern Ex Libris bookplates combine words and images in unique ways that are both functional and aesthetically pleasing. All three are produced at predictable sizes--and until the Digital Age--printed by offset lithography. They exhibit engraving techniques and letterforms that were developed over centuries.
  Unlike their graven cousins, bookplates were made for individuals, not companies. There is no hierarchy of decision-makers to put a design through rigorous stages of approval. A bookplate is simply commissioned by somebody who values his or her personal library. Within this field, quirkiness and innovation are virtues because they celebrate the individual. The more successful examples make a poetic or universal statement while honoring the patron's ego.
  In several future posts I will have more to say on the subject. For now, feast your eyes on these random examples of the genre at its finest. They were a gift from my wife, the cartoonist Carol Tyler. She purchased an almanac of bookplates at a fundraising sale for the library at St. Mary Of The Woods College near Terre Haute, Indiana. Most of the plates date from the late 19th Century to the outbreak of WWI. They are from both American and European collections. All were glued onto heavy black paper, sometimes front and back, making razor blade triage necessary. I am now the temporary steward of this treasure trove and will store them in an archival setting. Come back in early '12 to see a new batch.

 

Why Kindle When You Can Schmindle?

This is the first Schmindle volume "published" (at Fedex/Kinko's) as an 8 1/2" x 11" double-sided sheet, folded in quarters and stapled. It is available through my Etsy Store:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/ScribeArt

 

  Though Ludwig Beethoven's (1770-1827) compositions are among humankind's greatest achievements, his love letters reveal the temperament of a frustrated suitor whose overwrought prose would benefit from a rewrite by the average Tin Pan Alley songwriter. The Schmindle Pamphlet Library has discovered a small cache of his letters, luckily never mailed, in an article from the March 1930 issue of The Etude Magazine. 

Pity the Rich Reveler, Too

Ragtime Central

Every time I log onto Virginia (D.C. area) pianist "Perfessor" Bill Edwards' site (www.perfessorbill.com) I consciously think, "This is too good to be true." At first glance it's devoted to the preservation of Ragtime,  Popular Songs and Show-Tunes from the early Twentieth Century. Navigating through the various links, you'll soon discover that it's a veritable nexus of American cultural history. In the erudite commentary that accompanies all the original sheet music covers, the master pianist explains the historical context of each song and writes about its musical structure in easily understandable terms. More often than not, biographical details about the individual musicians and composers and the various bands with which they recorded and performed are provided. Over the past six years, Edwards' activities on the site have increasingly focused on writing and research. There are over 190 biographies of ragtime-era composers, publishers and performers from the obscure to renowned, such as George Gershwin, Charles Chaplin and Irving Berlin. It should take the average reader more than a week of full days to read through them all (starting at http://ragpiano.com/ragtime3.shtml). While hearing his spotless renditions of each song, you can feast your eyes on the cover art (these little postage stamp versions were the best I could download). The postage stamp covers (thumbnails actually) are actually quite useful.
  Hover the mouse over then and you find out more about each publication. Click on them and you get a separate window with a much larger sized cover and a MIDi with the information all in one. It was designed to allow for multi-tiered browsing, and focusing on one piece if need be through that method, making the most efficient use of space.

Please note that that the top of each of the pbmidi pages, the ones with the explanations and covers, the following text is shown:

Left Click on title to play MIDI or thumbnail to View full size cover

Right Click to Download either (in most browsers)

 With the exception of French fin de siecle posters, I don't know another era or site where there is so much drop-dead gorgeous hand lettering in one place. Even if you have little interest in ragtime as a musical form, reading his thoughts about its composition is like sitting at the feet of great tradesman/writers, such as the late Robert Pirsig ("Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance") or Anthony Bourdain ("Kitchen Confidential") who write with acute clarity borne of experience. Your horizon will be broadened by the encounter, even as it will be brightened by hearing Edwards tickle the 88s. By all means, buy his CDs and tell anyone who will listen about this Great American resource and living treasure.

Sholem Asch: An Appreciation

Translated from the Yiddish, East River (1946) by the Polish-born American writer Sholem Asch (1880-1957) resonates like rare microfilm. If you are patient enough to crank the handle, the research will yield bountiful gifts attainable from no other source. His accounts of early Twentieth Century New York and the cultural clashes that defined its identity have a legitimacy that is informed by first-hand witness and exacting scholarship. Unlike the suave pastiche of the modern documentary style that partakes heavily of familiar borrowed images and formulaic devices, the grainy details that Asch’s prose reveal are stunning for their novelty and staying power. This is truly living history. The arc of the storyline is interpolated by polemics about such compelling topics as the infamous Triangle fire, the meteoric rise of Jazz and its immediate social consequences, conflicting ideologies within the labor movement, the clutches of Tammany Hall—such asides remind the reader that there actually is a narrator behind the scenes of this captivating drama. Journalism is only one component of his vital and dynamic voice: humorist, poet, epic storyteller, Asch is also noteworthy for his religious scholarship. His depiction of the dynamics of Irish Catholicism is as authentic (though kinder) than the harsh narrative of Chicagoan James T. Farrell’s Studs Lonnigan Trilogy.

Upon the microcosm of the orthodox Davidowsky family, Asch unleashes forces that constantly threaten to usurp the ancient traditions the patriarch Moshe Wolf attempts to uphold. This devout father is beset with adversity, and like Job, withstands the challenges to his enduring faith. His favorite son Nathaniel is stricken with infantile paralysis while in his late adolescence. The younger son Irving, the mother’s favorite, heeds the siren call of the American dream. He overrides ethical considerations using predatory business tactics to rise high in the garment industry. In his vivid depiction of the garment trade, Asch equals Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle. Amazingly, that is only a subplot! The story arc is driven by the inclusion of a devout Irish Catholic girl into the family. Her presence galvanizes the crippled boy into a religious healing. Her marriage to the successful brother rends the family asunder before transforming it on distinctly American ground. It is refreshing to see that no character comes out of these travails smelling like a rose. Through dialog and interior monologue, we see all the principles struggling with their personal and religious identities. The bit players, too, are vivid despite the broad strokes with which they are painted. In this seamless work of timeless literature, all characters are essential to the final outcome.

Asch is unique among Yiddish writers for his devotional literature about Christianity. His Christian trilogy The Nazarene (1939), The Apostle (1943) and Mary (1949) reveals his vast knowledge of history and of his people. Regardless of your stance on Christianity, you will be startled by the details Asch unearths and with which he embellishes the dusty lore (or True Religion, if you prefer). I strongly sensed that East River was part of his biblical continuum. His discussion of the issues in which various factions were embroiled within the Jewish community of Manhattan hearken back to the politics of ancient Jerusalem. He is unsparing in his critique of those power brokers who corrupt the message of his beloved Prophets. Perhaps it is the secular airing of those accusations in his literature, coupled with his upholding of Jesus as the true Messiah that made him a controversial figure during his lifetime. He is deserving of much wider recognition as one of the greatest American authors to have written in his native tongue. Among those “polemics” which I sited are several passages celebrating the egalitarian ideals of the early American vision. For all of his unsparing depictions of corruption and squalor, his vision of this country is ultimately a patriotic one.

From an NPR interview with Pete Seeger (who recorded a Christmas record written by Asch in the mid-‘50s), I learned that Moses Asch, his son, founded Folkways Records. This was the mainstay of the folk revival from the ‘40s and well beyond. During the late ‘30s when portable recording was cutting-edge technology, his father asked him to broadcast a dire radio warning from a portable disk to the Jews remaining in Europe: Get out while you can!

 "Sweatshop," William Gropper. No Date. Lithograph

An Improbable Russian Superhero

This is a page from the "Boris Kirov" story, scripted by the late Bob Callahan, with whom the cartoonist Spain Rodriguez and myself collaborated in 2003. It was a sequential strip which ran for several issues in the L.A. Weekly. I'm still not sure if this project was satire or propaganda. Bob was a good egg and a gifted writer who had a passion for comics. His Dark Hotel series remains accessible on the web.

"Owning" Real Estate

Even industrial realty can be yours, just for the poaching. Make many visits (in this case,  a dozen) to a site at approximately the same time of day. This was the "magic hour" late Summer, West Sacramento, 1996. By the time this oil painting (12" x 24") was finished, I felt completely at peace with these surroundings. I knew that no other mortal had stood exactly there and watched patiently for the subtle changes of light and color that the sinking sun brought to that little corner of the world. The following year, this painting won an award at the California State Fair, where I was the official sign painter during the late '80s.

Linocut Dept.

This is a "varied edition" of 12 linocuts. The black line was originally done in 1974 for a cartoon titled "Kiwi Brown And The Statistics." It was just one panel of that 3 page strip, for which I received less than $50 per page. I had given the carved block to my friend Tony Mostrom years ago. He found it in his garage and loaned it back to me. Last year I constructed a registration jig for the many additional colors. I experimented with several new substrates for the additional blocks, which created bold textures. There is a tremendous attrition rate for this medium.  I began with at least 50 pristine sheets of heavyweight cover stock, of which only a dozen came to fruition.
  The term "varied edition" is another way of saying there is some hand-painting added and every print has a slight deviation from perfect registration or color distribution. This medium is not for perfectionists.

Great Moments In Marketing

This short-lived series surveyed great American icons, successful ad campaigns and products. Though artistically sound and well-written (and edited), the sales department at Signs Of The Times magazine 

didn't regard it as being cost-effective.  Scroll below for all three...

Rune Image

  The only version of the ancient Runic system that I’ve used was formulated by Ralph H. Blum.  I have the ’93 edition of “The Book of Runes”, though there are many others available. A simple Googling will reveal the breadth of his work.
  I use this oracle system when I become enmeshed in thought forms that are persistent. There is usually good reason for the longevity of doubt or negative self-image. I use them when I have to make a judgment call based on factors that are known and intangible, yet felt. I sometimes use them to center my dispersed energies for an important task or meeting. I may question my feelings about specific people and situations.
  I never use the runes just for the hell of it. It’s not a parlor game, but a risky route to immediate self-knowledge. Other divination systems such as the I Ching or the Tarot have greater complexity. The 25 glyphs or symbols which comprise the runic alphabet embody energies or propensities which are basic or primal. There are many methods of casting the little stones. I’ve only the simplest method: selecting three random runes from all 25, which are spread on their backsides, then flipped in succession. They are read from right to left; hence, the “reverse” or counter-clockwise presentation of the seasons in this particular rune Harvest (Jera); Fertile Season; One Year.
  There is an ancient method of drawing in which a random pattern provides a hallucinatory ground. Leonardo painted a few landscapes this way. The artist Max Ernst perfected the “frottage,” a way of constructing images from rubbings on natural textures. When I see three runes together, I think of the specific energies I have put into motion sparking new thought forms related to the issue I have brought to the surface--like  drawing  over a pattern does.
  I only did a few Rune cards. Life took over.

A Lecher's Lament

It's a wonder that many of those old stovetop hats didn't go up in smoke considering the torrid thoughts that were sparking underneath them. Possibly absinthe was as much a catalyst for this inflamed prose as were the feminine charms extolled below:


"To A Passer-By (Baudelaire)", ink & watercolor, 12" x 18", 2001 ©Justin Green

Amid the deafening traffic of the town,

Tall, slender, in deep mourning, with majesty,

A woman passed, raising with dignity

In her poised hand, the flounces of her gown;

Graceful, noble, with a statue's form.

And I drank, trembling as a madman thrills,

From her eyes, ashen sky where brooded storm.

The softness that fascinates, the pleasure that kills.

A flash...then night!-O lovely fugitive,

I am suddenly reborn from your swift glance;

Shall I never see you 'til eternity?

Somewhere, far off! Too late! Never, perchance!

Neither knows where the other goes or lives;

We might have loved, and you knew this might be!

A Botanical Emblem Book

 From the University of Cincinnati Rare Books Library, Germany, 7" x 5", late 17th Century 


Seeing an emblem image on a computer screen is  pale shadow of experiencing one in its original context. While the content may be amplified by the brilliant backlighting, there is much lost in translationto the new medium. Think of a potato chip, a very bad one; now think of a deluxe health-food-store variety, thicker and heavier. Stay with me. Now think of freshly minted dollar bills, so thin they stick together. Between touching those bills and turning a parchment page is the difference between handling the cheapest and most expensive potato chip. Parchment paper is “crunchier,” too. You can hear the ancient paper crinkling as it’s handled. The ink has been impressed into thick paper by the pressure of tooled blocks, so that the fibers beneath the surface are thoroughly saturated. The pages splay out from leather bindings suspended like large plant leaves.
  As the images were printed in various sections (signatures), then folded, trimmed and sewn, there is an irregularity to the ink quality. (Possibly, the most consistently high quality specimens were reserved for a wealthier clientele.)  Through centuries of compression, the ink has transferred to opposing pages. Images, often printed on the right side of an open book have a blank page facing—which after centuries of compression bear a faint smudged impression of the ink. If the book has been stored flat, those verso ink deposits become darker, just from the increased weight of the pages.
  The craftsmanship is exquisite and breathtaking, too—considering there was no instant “white-out” tool or even a means of reduction (except the ancient grid method of proportioning down). It is difficult to believe that only the humble magnifying glass enabled such sharp focus and details. There must have been mechanical/optical aids of some kind which permitted that high degree of precise craftsmanship.
  This image is taken from a German botanical survey published in the late 17th Century. It seems to be a survey of beneficial herbs and flowers, which began earlier in the century. I believe that at least three artists worked on the volume successively, as there are slight deviations in style and ornamentation. In addition to the lush foreground detail, there is always a middle ground and distance which are depicted selectively with a painter’s eye—not a clunky common line width which marks earlier works. See the scores of images, I believe that the backgrounds are details of specific landscapes where the various plants thrive. Dover Books take note.
  I highly recommend visiting the rare books department of your local library or university. You might be able to access obscure and beautiful volumes of emblem images handed down through centuries, and untouched for decades. This is a vital art form! Though long slumbering, it awaits a Renaissance in the digital age. We now have the resources to survey and catalog the entire world treasury of existing volumes—and to imbue it with imagery and text expressive of our era and culture. For a brief summary of the Emblem tradition, see the earlier post, “A Forgotten Genre" at my other site
http://justingreencartoonart.blogspot.com






























 

Poetic License

“Musical Legends” ran monthly from ’92 in PULSE! Magazine, which was distributed at all Tower Records stores until the demise of the corporation in ’02. The money was never quite enough, though too good to abandon the strip. Each cartoon biography involved extensive research and the occasional interview. This is the only one I made up! I thought the word “Legends” gave me artistic license. The reason it sounds so believable is that I had first hand information from my father, who was the official bat-boy for the Chicago White Sox in either ’19, or ’20. As the local purveyor of dogs to the Chisox dugout, he was pressed into service by the hungry Ruth to fetch some top quality dogs pronto. When Pop, then a mere sprout of ten, delivered the goods, the “Bambino” palmed one down exactly as shown. As for Waller, I extrapolated several details from his biographers, such as the gin breakfast. In the unlikely event that I ever have to answer to St. Peter, I’ll justify my white lie thus: “Okay, Fats didn’t mimic Ruth’s gluttonous gesture, but it’s arguably a poetic reality.”

The Pause That Refreshes

  Over the decades, words come into vogue which connote some kind of intellectual currency. From that old-saw “realms”, we’ve now progressed to such lofty and vague terms as “epiphany,” or “paradigm,” to suggest that some kind of shift in consciousness is necessary to navigate a new reality--or that it’s already here--and you better get on board, buddy. Yet when these faddish words start showing up on bumper stickers and evening news items, perhaps it’s time to look inward and define mental phenomenon with more acuity. Something is going on, though, with the role of the artist in the world-at large. The marketing of original art and all the assumptions I had about earning a livelihood through my real work seem to be in a permanent state of flux.
  In the blogosphere, I am just one more self-motivated content provider. I question my motives. I’m not sure that this rigorous self-examination (or even Spell-check) is too common among my millions of virtual peers. Let’s face it, insanity runs rampant in many fonts, including the Times that I have chosen. I am amazed at the lack of meaningful response to the verbiage I have offered (or substantive comments on the images themselves). I have no doubt that my images are compelling or that my words have legitimacy, so I must question the new culture itself. There is little hope of reaping material rewards or recognition from this egalitarian medium. All agencies of certification and qualification are gone, save for the attendance records registered as STATS. My use of the King’s English is merely a personal preference and all notions of cultural conservation are fair game for mockery. Everyman is now king, and yet, it’s “every man for himself” as the saying goes, in the face of disaster.
  Mass appropriation is a raging phenomenon. Option G (which makes the little © ball) is an antiquated notion, much like double-spacing after a period or starting any letter with Dear. While my motivation for creating this site is still unfolding, The images and entries are intended for re-publication in some format, perhaps posthumously; I have cannily posted most at 72 dpi, assuring that free usage for print is impractical (though I have nothing against sharing files). So why not take a little time to scroll through the archives? If this were some coffee table book, you would surely thumb through it from random insertion points. Start anywhere. I will provide fresh content for your insatiable appetite next week, which you can accept or reject with a twitch of your thumb.