Last summer I posted a tease of the two illustrations above, as they were in progress. These were two of a series of ten illustrations I was commissioned to create for the Cocktail Guide to the Galaxy, a recipe book written by R.A. Heidel (also the proprietor of The Way Station, famous for its Tardis).… Continue reading Cocktail Guide to the Galaxy— illustrations
While upstate over the holiday, I did some excavating and archiving of old art* and other things when I could find time. Often late at night, when the house was quiet. The first night followed time spent watching old super 8 home movies from childhood. A natural progression, and something I'd planned to do this trip.… Continue reading Notes from the archives
The image above is an odd little thing I wrote when I was 23; I was photographing sketchbooks and other do-dads while I was at the Farm. There will be more to come, art archive series. . . . It's sunny today, a nice gift. At midnight a new year begins, everything cyclical.
More observations of people out and about in the amorphous days before the new year begins. Incidentally, the watercolor-looking sketches such as these have all been executed using a Pilot G2 gel ink pen, which smears wonderfully (leaving me with an inky fingertip).
Some observational do-dads in the sketchbook from my excursion upstate over the Christmas holiday.
Christmas day was sunny and crisp. In the afternoon the extended family gathers at my cousin's house in a neighborhood filled with lovely houses from the 1920s— steep pitched rooftops, Tudor woodwork, stucco and stone— surrounded by towering old trees and a slim carpet of remaining snow. After dinner a few of us walked around the… Continue reading Gingerbread houses
I went out in the afternoon to say hi to the Dudes. The new horse is still being kept separate until they've all got to be friendly, so he was down in a separate pasture. Seneca and Prince were feeling feisty and joined me in running
The crunch of gravel underfoot; incline. Sun coming in low and glaring off every harbor-facing pane of the buildings on the other side of the park. Cold. Empty playground today, and no leaves remain on the trees. I can see the harbor through the naked branches and the shining points of the city beyond neighboring rooftops out… Continue reading A dense fog enveloped Brooklyn last night
Here, a cluster of stone red-roofed cottages, and more of those trees with the art nouveau branches. There's a rock—huge!— out, away from the shore. It looks like a great fat sleeping bear. The mist hangs above the land in swaths, like smoke suspended in the calm of an afternoon pub. Some beautiful old stonework houses… Continue reading Like smoke suspended in the calm
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 