Yikes! A first post on Substack
The works of an author and artist who is still trying to figure out where he's been and where he's going.
First, my apologies for sending out a weird mailing to a few folks a while back. I didn’t even know it had been sent. It probably went straight to a spam folder anyway. This gives you the proper picture that I’m a newbie on Substack and don’t quite have a handle yet on the whole deal. Hopefully that will improve over time (or, over a drink). And I know that you are being besieged by Xmas mailings, so I apologize—again (I need to stop this contriteness).
Now, for some background: I have been writing for a few years now—a novel, some short stories—but I felt myself sinking into the quicksand of inactivity (Also, sinking into quagmires of weak metaphors.) Sooo…I lately heard about Substack and thought I would test drive it.
On this site, over time, you will find some of my latest writings and examples of my artwork along with discussions of how each are generated. Other explorations may include pieces from my memoir, excerpts from my art and sketch books, along with examples of my black & white photography. I will also be getting into the design of the logo for the California Society of Printmakers.
Everything on the site will be free. I plan on posting once a week for starters. Eventually I will explore doing paid subscriptions ($5-8/month). In those subscriptions I will include, as a benefit:
detailed technical descriptions of the etching process and why I composed specific pieces.
how I go about doing sketches & the mechanical methods in enhancing them
The art and trauma of doing a memoir, including issues of layout & production
parts of my life’s journey that will be in series form
For now, to give you a taste of things to come, here is a little fluffy piece I wrote recently:
Alex the Bird
One flew over the cuckoo’s nest…and must have headed right through our window and into our screenless unit. It was a bright, but confused bird. Quite small but firm of wing. My first sighting was in the bedroom where our bird—let’s call it Alex—was bashing his little beak to a nub trying to exit through a fixed pane of glass. I tried to impart some advice on how to use your bird noggin and exit through the open window just above. Alex was stubborn and wasn’t about to listen to a non-avian. Apparently he missed the last Audubon Society class on escapism.
I decided to use the bristle end of a broom in an attempt to gently sweep him toward greener pastures in the living room where an open sliding door awaited. This really got his feathers up and he flew back to the bedroom where he took refuge under the bed. I then, again, gently poked beneath the bed with the pole end of the broom. The right side of his little bird brain employed the spatial awareness attribute and flew from beneath the bed and under the counter in the bathroom (the chaser had a senior moment and forgot to close the bathroom door; the chasee figured this out). I, once again, had to use the broomstick poker and shooed him from beneath the counter. One more reason to remind contractors to put baseboards below counters. It keeps out birds, lotions, pills, and other sundry items.
So now, I really had him on the run—or on the fly. He made a beeline back to the living room where he began another session of beak bashing against the slider door pane. I had generously opened the sliding door but this one chose to use his now-bent beak to try the fixed part. I mentioned earlier that he was a bright, but confused bird. (I held back on using the term stupid.) Forty-five minutes later, amidst more frantic flapping, Alex finally found the open part and flew into the neighborhood so he could pester some other unsuspecting party. I could have sworn it was singing “Fly me to the Moon.”
“Swarm,” multiple plate etching