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Results 26 - 50 of 1,323
26. Spanish trip.

What a great real-time history lesson! Religions. Architecture. Art. Politics. All rolled together in a harsh landscape covered by olive trees and served with great food.

 

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27. Inktober Day 7

Inktober 7

 

Poor Mort, stood up again!

Micron Brush Pen Black & Graphite pencil

 

 

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28. Case of the Missing Website

The VoidBeloved Subscribers…

You probably haven’t noticed but my website vanished into the e-ether for ten days. On the fifth anniversary of my blog!

My brother has been working hard to track it down, talk it down, and convince it to come home.

It appears to be back, but you can never tell for how long. It may escape again before I’ve appeased its wanderlust with promises I might not be able to keep.

Should that happen, it might take off with my subscription email list. In which case I’ve lost track of you. My worst nightmare! If you don’t hear from me for a while, manually log in to http://www.pjreece.ca and re-subscribe.

I hope it doesn’t come to that.

I’m sure I can come to some understanding with my blog. I suspect it’s feeling under-employed of late, what with my once-a-month postings. Perhaps that’s the lesson it wanted to teach me.

I’m going to make amends, starting soon with posts of the first few chapters of my new book. It’s almost finished. It’s called The Writer in Love, a hot and sweaty read.

I should add that the heat and stink issues mainly from the jungle river up which my literary expedition travels in search of the story heart. But there’s a little sex as well. You should hear crocodiles mating! Seriously.

Okay, that’s my quickie for today… hope this publishes before the digital house of cards collapses again.

Buenas noches.

PJ

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29. Inktober 6

Inktober 6

 

Inky was such a scaredy cat!

Micron Brush Pen Black & Graphite pencil

#inktober #inktober2014

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30. Inktober 5 #inktober #inktober2014

Inktober 5

It is raining leaves! – Micron Pigma Brush Pen Black & Graphite pencil

 

Autumn leaves are falling to the ground here in Western Massachusetts. The fall colors are becoming more and more vibrant. As I walked on campus yesterday, I noticed the leaves coming down, just like rain. Beautiful!

I purchased a black Micron brand Pigma Brush pen. I really loved the feel of it. It is my first time using a brush pen for inking. I love the loose line it allows yet still with the control of a pen. I will be using it again!

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31. Now Available – Ten Thankful Turkeys

Turkery Cover

We are so excited to announce the release of our latest children’s book, Ten Thankful Turkeys.  This colorful autumn tale follows ten turkeys as they get ready for an important celebration. This story teaches about gratitude. There are also fun turkey facts in the back of the book.  You can get the kindle version of this book for a special launch price of $.99 for a limited time or FREE if you have Kindle Unlimited.  We also have paperback versions on sale now at Amazon for $8.99.

Be sure to gobble up this deal before it disappears. :-)


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32. Inktober 4

Inktober 4

 

Inktober 4 – Mr. Bones Dancing

Anyone  who knows me well, knows that I LOVE bones! This one was fun to draw. Since it is that time of year, maybe I will find more inspiration to draw Mr. Bones!

Pigma Micron Pen Black Ink 05 and graphite pencil

 

 

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33. Inktober 3

 

Inktober 3

Pigma Micron Pen 05 and graphite pencil

One of the best things about living in New England is the beautiful autumns here. The leaves are just starting to fall to the ground and the colors are so vibrant. It is just beautiful. Here is my third entry for Inktober. I am all caught up now. Hooray!

 

Note: Sorry if I spammed anyone on twitter while I was tweaking my feed burner. Hopefully it is all straightened out.

 

Thanks for stopping by and have a great weekend!

 

 

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34. Coming Soon

We are so excited about our next children’s picture book release, Ten Thankful Turkeys.  Stay tuned here for more details and promotions we will be doing.  You’ll want to gobble up these deals before they disappear.

 

Turkery Cover


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35. Sing Along Construction Song

Sing Along Construction Song - Cover

We really enjoyed this tale about various construction vehicles and the job they do.  Each vehicle describes their function and then happily sings a song set to the tune of “London Bridge” about their work.  At the end they all sing together about how they work as a team to get the job done.  Great message for young children about having a positive attitude and teamwork.  You can purchase this ebook for $2.99 at Amazon or get it for FREE using Kindle Unlimited which is a new subscription service by Amazon to read up to ten books at a time for a monthly fee of $9.99.  They are currently offering free 30-day trials if you want to check it out.  As always all of our children’s books are available in the Kindle Unlimited program as well.

**We received a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.**


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36. Trip to Ireland 2014

Spent some time in Ireland with my best travelling companion. We stopped to edit the final re-write of Bagger Island and spent a morning of total detachment overlooking the quiet water. What a magical place!

More later when we visit southern Spain.

 

Denis

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37. The Family Tree: Talks with Writers on Ancestry, for Tin House

 

The Family Tree at Tin House

 

I’ve always been interested in the ways writers think about family history—and especially about echoes, or the lack thereof, through the generations—if they do, as they work. I’m grateful to Tin House for allowing me to indulge this curiosity in a new series of brief but wide-ranging interviews with authors about ancestry. First up, Christopher Beha:

Maud Newton: When we first met to talk about the essay I eventually ended up writing for Harper’s, you mentioned an ancestral house upstate where your family spends time every summer. Do you think visiting that old homestead has influenced your thinking about ancestry?

 

Christopher Beha: Without a doubt. The house was built by the first Behas of my line to come to America from Germany in the second half of the nineteenth century. They farmed for a couple of generations on land my family still owns, and members of the family continued to spend a lot of time there after my great-great grandmother moved the family down to New York City. So there’s a lot of family history there. There are still some Behas living in the area (though they pronounce the name differently than my family does), and there is a Beha Road not far from the house. I can walk a mile down the road to the churchyard and see the graves of Matthias and Theresa Beha, my great-great-great grandparents, who brought their family over 150 years ago. All of this has influenced my sense of ancestry as something that is still present in my world, even if it is often invisible.

The rest is here. Future interview subjects will include Laila Lalami, Emily Mandel, Celeste Ng, Saeed Jones, and Katherine Faw Morris.

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38. On our way to the THRIFT SHOP…

Today, Lew and I had an hour to kill, before we needed to pick Mose up from school. I decided to run some errands, and stopped home to pick up a big bag of clothes for the thrift shop, as well as a laundry basket full of books…


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ew did NOT like my idea of donating the basket of books.

But then we drove by a Little Free Library, situated right at Lew’s old preschool, and he said he thought it might be okay to donate a few books to the Ormewood School.   So we did that.

Then we drove a little further down Woodland, and found…. THIS!

Wow, Lew was really impressed with the metalworking!  He rewarded the library with a few books.

We continued to head to the thrift shop, but guess what we ran into, right on that same street?

After that we dropped off the big bag of clothes, and it was time to head back to the school to get Mose.  But on our way we got a little sidetracked…

And then, at the elementary school itself, we simply couldn’t resist…

By now we only had about half the books left!  And when Mose heard what we’d be doing, he wanted in on the fun.  So we drive the 2 miles home verrrry slowly home, and we found…

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All on our drive home from school!

Now we were down to four books (which someone insisted we could NOT give away). So we decided to go home for a snack.

But not without doubling back to one of our previous stops first.  Because, as Lew explained, “Mose, you have GOT to see the faucet.”

Faucet? What faucet?

Umm…

Man, I love my neighborhood.

4 Comments on On our way to the THRIFT SHOP…, last added: 9/15/2014
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39. WOMEN MAKE PICTURE BOOKS TOO: the 2014 edition…

Every year, about this time, we start to see lots of posts and comments online about the upcoming ALA awards.  It’s one of my favorite seasons for this very reason. I love following the blogs, engaging in discussions about the frontrunners, learning from what other people have to say.  I like to read prediction posts, and to hear about the mock Caldecott clubs around the country. I like to discover new books.

But every year I’m a little dismayed by how overwhelmingly women illustrators seem to get overlooked in early Caldecott conversations.

To be clear– I LOVE the books that win.  I love the men who (mostly) make the books that win. Many of these men are my friends, and I believe that they are talented and creative and brilliant and worthy of awards. ABSOLUTELY.  Last year, despite all my ranting about gender-bias, my own top pick for the medal was illustrated by  a man.

BUT.

I also believe women are worthy. Yet, somehow, when we start to generate buzz within our own little community, we PREDICT success for men.  Which creates a certain sense of inevitability.

How does it begin? I don’t know. Maybe there are more marketing dollars for dudes.  Maybe men are more inclined to illustrate.  Maybe we, the women who buy most of the books, simply adore dudes.  Maybe men are more inclined to make “Caldecott-style” illustrations. Or maybe MEN ARE SIMPLY BETTER AT ART THAN WOMEN AND I AM WRONG ABOUT EVERYTHING I HAVE EVER SAID ON THE MATTER.

In any case, it happens.  Statistically.

So…

Last year I made this list of AMAZING PICTURE BOOKS CREATED BY WOMEN. It was great fun, and I heard from a lot of folks that they were introduced to books they hadn’t seen before. I know some folks even sold a few books via the list.

So I invite you to help me make a 2014 edition, by leaving a comment below, with your very favorite woman-illustrated picture book of the year.  Please don’t self-nominate or self-promote in this space.  If you’ve truly created something awesome, no doubt someone else will mention it for you!  Just link to your favorite book in a comment, and I’ll pull an image of the cover, and add it below.

And if you’re a list-maker yourself, a blogger or journalist or librarian who runs a mock Caldecott… and you find yourself with a dude-heavy list, consider adding a few women  to the mix. If women-illustrated titles don’t jump immediately to mind, you might want to ask yourself why that is…

I’ll kick things off myself, with a few favorites of my own:

A BOY AND A JAGUAR, by Alan Rabinowitz, illustrations by Catia Chien

LIFE, LIBERTY, and the PURSUIT of EVERYTHING, by Maira Kalman

TELEPHONE, by Mac Barnett, illustrations by Jen Corace

NANA IN THE CITY, by Lauren Castillo

FIREFLY JULY, by Paul B. Janeczko, illustrations by Melissa Sweet

EXTRAORDINARY JANE, by Hannah E Harrison

AVIARY WONDERS, INC, by Kate Samworth

FLIGHT SCHOOL, by Lita Judge

VIVA FRIDAY, by Yuyi MOrales

FLASHLIGHT, by Lizi Boyd

A PIECE OF CAKE, by LeUyen Pham

10 Comments on WOMEN MAKE PICTURE BOOKS TOO: the 2014 edition…, last added: 9/15/2014
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40. Who in their Right Mind Would Be a Writer?

a-m-boyle Struggling WriterA writer buddy of mine phones up and tells me to meet him on the first tee in 45 minutes.

Say no more.

I love hanging out with writers. I love their lack of common sense, their desperation, their vulnerability, their implausibility. Their impossibility!

Who in their right mind would be a writer?

I especially love watching movies about struggling writers.

Joe in Sunset Boulevard, and Roy in You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger, and Henry in Factotum, and Charlie in Adaptation, and The Ghost Writer, and of course Miles (Paul Giamatti) in the film Sideways.

Miles (introvert, pessimistic, depressed) spends most of the story waiting to hear from his literary agent. The news won’t be good. Writers don’t show up in stories as symbols of success. They are setups for failure.

Someone should make a movie of my life.

Forget the first 40 years, they were altogether too glamorous. No, my life more truly started when my 13-year-old son called a meeting to say, “I’m in Grade Seven, Dad, and I’ve attended fifteen different schools.”

I said, “Wash your mouth out with soap,” but it turns out he wasn’t exaggerating.

“Pops, I want you to settle down,” he said.

So I quit shooting films, traded camera for keyboard, and decided that henceforth I was a writer. It was great. I soon became so broke that my son’s mother sent support payments from Hawaii.

Once, I forced my son to accompany me to the Welfare Office. They gave me so much money it was humiliating—rent, medical and dental care, bus passes, food vouchers, extra cash. I had to cut them off.

Though I soon acquired a stable of clients, every November it seemed I was scrambling to pay the rent. I sucked up my pride and hit the streets to sell door to door. Water filters, home insulation, sports videos, memberships, you name it, even vacuum cleaners.

I spent eight hours performing a demo for an Italian household. The extended family showed up to watch and applaud as my machine hoovered that mansion top to bottom. I thought they were going to adopt me. Alas, no sale.

I remember one cold, dark and stormy night somewhere out in Vacuumland huddling in a phone booth, demo machine in one hand and phone in the other as I listened to my agent promise me my script was all but sold. Alas, optioned three times, it’s yours, cheap.

One day the Revenue Department came snooping around to deny me my business expenses. It didn’t take her long to realize she couldn’t squeeze blood from a stone. Lost for words, she said, “Well, Mr. Reece…keep writing.”

Thank you, Ms. Klenck. And I did exactly that.

type-inI entered writing competitions—the 3-Day Novel Competition, Short Story Challenges, Screenplay Competitions, and Pitch-a-Plot workshops. But it is with special fondness that I remember the “24-Hour One-Act Play Competition”—all of us wannabe playwrights sequestered into one room.

Twelve hours into my scenario about a kid who is abducted off a golf course (well, they tell you to write what you know), I thought it would be wise to review what I’d written. I pushed back from my typewriter (that’s right, a typewriter!) and unenscrolled the paper from the rollers.

Typing on dot-matrix computer paperI was typing onto dot-matrix computer paper, you know, a continuous feed. I separated the sheets along the perforations and made a nice little stack which then fell to the floor. Thirty-five UN-NUMBERED sheets all helter-skelter.

I couldn’t organize the pages, couldn’t find the continuity, couldn’t put Humpty back together again. If I didn’t bolt from the room I was going to cry. It was 4:00 a.m.

Walking the streets, I was Miles and Roy and Henry and every fictional writer who ever agreed to let their creator thwart them to the point of despair and even self-loathing. Why weren’t the cameras rolling?

At a convenience store I suffocated my existential crisis with anchovy & garlic pizza. That I was a writer caused the proprietor to reflect on his own life, roads not taken, etc. Lamenting his lack of courage to lead an art-committed life, he said something along the lines of:

If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”

I knew there was a reason, besides my son’s ultimatum, why I was a writer.

At the same time I realized why I love movies about writers. As symbols of failure, writers depict Everyman at the brink of surrender. The struggling writer shows us what deep down we fear most—that the meaning of a life is to leave our old selves behind.

To be a writer is to have the courage to become unselved.

Spirits bolstered, I returned to the drama den—and damned if my abduction story didn’t win First Prize.

My words since then have earned me a million bucks, which, admittedly, spread over twenty years is a modest living. But I’m proud to count myself as someone struggling to bring forth what’s in him.

Who in their right mind would be a writer? I think that being a writer indicates nothing but right-mindedness.

But getting back to my son—I’d ring him for a golf game except the kid is doing so well that he’s off playing Pebble Beach. Last year it was The Old Course in St. Andrews. Next month Augusta National, it wouldn’t surprise me.

I might have to tell him to settle down.

PJ & son back then

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41. The book this post features—and therefore this post—is not safe for kids or work…

The book this post features—and therefore this post—is not safe for kids. It’s also not safe for work. The book’s about invaluable subject matter: grammar and punctuation. But it’s delivered in a far-from-the-traditionally-dry fashion. Penned by Chris Baker and Jacob Hansen, the co-authors of a similarly entitled blog The F*cking Word of the Day, The […]

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42. Stone Journey. (The Clare Poem)

Ireland April 2012 101.jpg 25 small

Stone Journey

(The Clare Poem)

 

What is it, Anu?

This water pouring across the plain

Of Desmond to the sea.

Down the limestone steps of karsted hills.

Through furrowed fields and into the wild Atlantic’s glare,

Below the sculpted cliffs of Clare.

Rushing now with meter in our steps.

Gunneling. Running, and forever onward.

Why me? Why did you love me back there?

Why did you hide our passion in your shawl?

Why did we venture into the race?

Water and the speed of foam still fill our space.

What made us one within our wetness?

Ferdiad, and the hounds of love

Came bounding out of me and down the craggy slope.

I made it there with you.

We thunder downward and pour out into the plain below.

Anu and I. Loins locked together in the flow.

Karsts bear hard around us. They crack and crumble.

Crushing anything that ventures in their space.

But we have courage. We have the inner power,

Of mystery with the magic, now dark within the glens.

Together we take this solid sight.

And out-pour each other in the stoney forms of our delight.

Denis Hearn 2013

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43. Cats of Many Colors

I have been dabbling with different watercolor techniques recently. This is a sketch I created, then watercolored and inked. I used 150# watercolor paper,  Koh-i-noor watercolors, and a Micron india ink pen.

 

I really like the Koh-i-noor watercolors, as they gave me many options for color combos. Below is a photo of the finished product. I am still in the processing of completion of the new hard drive software, so I will upload it to my gallery when I am able to scan. I might also offer it for sale in my Etsy shop which you can find here. I will announce when I put some items up for sale, including a few coloring books for printing and downloading.

 

Thanks for stopping by!

 

Cats of Many Colors

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44. Farewell, One Page Magazine

panda mask

Just about every week for more than two and a half years, I’ve contributed a tiny column about the meeting of history and the present day to the New York Times Magazine’s “One Page Magazine.” The constraints have been considerable — I usually operate in sixty to eighty words, or thereabouts, subject to the vagaries of column breaks and dictates of the stylebook — but within them my freedom has been enormous. When Jon Kelly invited me aboard in the fall of 2012, he said I could write about anything I chose, and he was true to his word. I was sometimes asked to give my draft a second pass, but my subject, no matter how idiosyncratic or obscure, was never vetoed. 

Since then I’ve mentioned essays from many of my favorite literary magazines (including Tin House, A Public Space, the Paris Review, and Granta), cultural websites (such as the Awl, the Millions, and the Los Angeles Review of Books), regional magazines (including two longtime favorites, Oxford American and Texas Monthly), and many, many books and writers, from the well-known to the, in today’s parlance, emerging.  I’ve written about language and religion and sex and depression — all favorite subjects — and about Mark Twain, Emily Dickinson, Muriel Spark, Ford Madox Ford, Helen Oyeyemi, Catherine Chung, Jeet Thayil, Muriel Spark, Zora Neale Hurston, Daphne Du Maurier, Sherlock, The Sandbaggers, and Doctor Who. Never once has the first person intruded, except in quotes from someone else or the occasional 6th Floor post.

It’s been an honor and a lot of fun to appear in the magazine so regularly, but I’m regretfully taking my leave of the page after yesterday’s issue to work on my book about the science and superstition of ancestry. Huge thanks to the magazine for having me aboard, and to everyone who’s followed my wide-ranging interests there all this time. My last column is about Elizabeth Bachner’s “How to Shake Hands With a Murderer,” from Spuyten Duyvil’s Wreckage of Reason II.

With this shift, I’m officially, formally, indefinitely and probably permanently retired from anything like regular writing about books. (I need all my brainpower for my own work, and I respectfully ask that everyone please, please, please discontinue sending unsolicited packages to me.)

I have to say, it feels wonderful to be reading novels, when I can find the time for novels, as a civilian again. The three new works of fiction I’ve loved most recently are Laila Lalami’s The Moor’s Account, Emily St. John Mandel’s Station Eleven, and Christopher Beha’s Arts & Entertainments. All are suspenseful, philosophical but not ponderous, and gorgeously written, and all are books that might make you miss your stop on the train. I’m also reading Montaigne, and tons of books on heredity, and I’m re-reading Rebecca Skloot’s outstanding The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks.

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45. Inukshuks

 

 

Inukshuks

Rushing! Whizzing!

Cutting thru the rocky spine of Canada.

Speeding south and sun-bound.

Returning to humidity and hot nights.

Pure crystal clear skies live here

When stones align as little people.

They beckon us home.

Asking us to stay and share our spirits for a minute.

We rush south towards the chaos

And the concrete of Toronto.

A meeting place beside the lake.

Where our native friends called sacred.

Now a social magnet for the other world

To live and walkabout.

Under those hideous wires of so called progress.

We speed westward to the coolness of the vineyards,

Stretching away before us.

We pass below the cool, green maples,

Shifting slowly in the summer breeze.

We stop and smell the air, full of warmed ground.

Tasting the fruit of glacial soil.

We sip at the cup of plenty

And allow our senses

To see this beauty in taste and vision.

The French oak floors beneath our feet.

The sculptured gardens all around us.

We look across the widening lake

And see the mighty dynamo of Canada,

Poised ghostly on the rippling horizon.

Walking now under the majestic maples

Of main street.

 With melded voices

Seated at pavement cafes

We sip at the cup of magic

And meet new friends

With the tembre of Quebecois in their voices.

We walk, with soft hands together

Towards O’Neal at night, as his play

Unfolds beneath our feet.

We walk again and return to our home

On wheeled feet, now quiet for the night.

Softly, together we sleep

And pass another night in our Great Lake space.

The stones have shown us where to go.

Denis Hearn 2009

 

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46. New Themes: Edin and Espresso

Check out Edin and Espresso — today’s spiffy new additions to our massive family of themes.

Edin

Edin: Front Page

Edin is a brand-new, free business theme designed by yours truly. It’s a modern and fully responsive theme that will help you create a strong — yet beautiful — online presence for your business. Edin offers multiple theme options and supports the recently launched Site Logo feature.

Espresso

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Espresso is a responsive, content-centric premium theme designed by Justin Carroll that allows you to choose between two charming layouts. Go with a traditional post stream for your writing-based blog, or go grid-style for your photography blog. A fixed sidebar on the right keeps widgets, menus, and social links at the ready for visitors.


Edin is a free theme, and Espresso is a premium upgrade. Check out each theme’s showcase by clicking on its screenshot above, or preview it on your blog from Appearance → Themes.


Filed under: Themes

10 Comments on New Themes: Edin and Espresso, last added: 8/2/2014
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47. Email from the Black Hole

While mucking around Africa in my last post, I ran into Dr. David Livingstone. He was dying as he lived, by the motto:

“I’ll go anywhere as long as it is forward.”

The mail poured in. Readers often tell me what they think of me—by email as much as through the Comments function on this blog.

Mu McGregor Mu McGregor

One such e-essay came from Douglas Mu McGregor, whom I know as an artist, songwriter, and above all an incorrigible truth-seeker. With McGregor’s permission, here’s what David Livingstone’s deathbed scene stirred up for him:

Back in 1982 I arrived in Vancouver by Greyhound bus after a harrowing adventure in Mexico. I had just ended a relationship, I was sick, broke, and miserable. As I got off the bus I saw a large sign on a brick wall on the other side of the road:

“You Can Never Go Back!”

This made me highly exhilarated and incredibly sad at the same time. Going back was my comfort food, my Kraft dinner, my go-to for relief from the pressure of the now. My exhilaration came from knowing I had a blank canvas in front of me—I could do anything!

But why would the Now have pressure? Is it because the Now requires my unwavering presence, and is therefore a lot of work?

Most of us have the same idea about past-present-future. But if you are a forward-moving entity, you have to throw the conventional model in the garbage. If you are in the Now, you aren’t in the past. You are certainly not in the future. But being in the Now is moving forward.

When a contemporary artist faces a large blank canvas, it is intimidating. He makes his first stroke—he adds to that stroke—and soon he has a painting that has never existed before. Einstein said that if he wanted to create something new, he would start from a place he had never been before. This is exciting stuff because it is all newness.

I know a woman who is about 65 years old, who, 40 years previously had belonged to a cutting edge community involved in advanced psychology and meditation. She says the years spent there were the most exciting time of her life. With a far off misty look in her eyes (an indication that one is not present) she would show me photographs and explain how much she loved this time and how happy and alive she was. This was infers that she no longer is.

This is not forward-moving-ness.

My mom died last year. I celebrated her life and I loved her dearly, but if I were to continue poring sentimentally over old photographs and reminiscing about my poor old mom, I can hear her whispering loudly in my ear, “Get a life!”

Enter David Livingstone, who was quoted as saying, “Sympathy is no substitute for action”.

Forward movers are too busy to hang out in the twilight zone of what could have been, would have been, or should have been.

In the end, Livingstone was too busy meeting his maker to contemplate what could have been. Deeply religious, he was on his knees in direct communication with his God. He was in the action of the Now… or was he?

There is little sentiment in a forward mover. I like to say that forward moving is “progressive insurance for the now,” by which I mean that “forward!” is insurance against the morbidity of returning to sentiment and self-sympathy.

People in wartime often express forward-thinking. It’s hard to live in the past with bombs dropping on your head. You are too busy surviving the now to think about anything else. Interestingly, these same people will be forever reminiscing about their wartime experiences as the most alive time of their lives.

The key to being a forward-mover is to be busy as hell, to follow my passion and take no prisoners. And when I die and I meet my maker, with a straight face I can say: “God, I presume?”

That may sound like a good conclusion, but I’m not finished!

The question remains for me—was David Livingstone moving forward on his death bed? Alas, I suspect he was firmly tethered to his God. As for me, I confess to sitting out here in space tethered (umbilical-like) to the mother ship of my thoughts, feelings and emotions.

For me, an appropriate forward movement would be action arising in the black hole within me, from which no thought could escape. From the black hole, only the unthinkable is born…

A pair of scissors! Floating towards me through space!


I invite all readers of this blog to weigh in on my explorations and (often apocryphal) assertions. By email, or preferably in the COMMENTS section below.

 

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48. The Blood Of Olympus- cover art

Here is the final cover art for The Blood of Olympus.  Can you wait until October 14th?  If not, I hope Percy Jackson’s Greek Gods will hold you over. (It has over 50 original paintings I did for it, and over 300 pages of Rick Riordan’s hilarious and exciting text! It comes out August 19th. )

BofO_final_02_flat

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49. Percy Jackson’s Greek Gods- Persephone

 

Persephone_finalHere I would like to discuss one of my favorite paintings I created for Percy Jackson’s Greek Gods. The Abduction of Persephone.   The story goes like this: Hades wanted Persephone, the daughter of Zeus and Demeter, to be his wife, so instead of doing the traditional “Hey, you’re cute, do you want to get hitched?”, Hades decides to just lure her away from the other maidens with pretty flowers. When she wanders off to pick them, he shoots up from the underworld, cracks open the earth and nabs her. Romantic, huh?

There have been many paintings over the centuries of this story, and many of them quite good, but almost all the paintings depict Hades in his chariot whisking Persephone away. I wanted to create a painting of the moment right before the abduction. I wanted to show the two different worlds (Hades Underworld and the earth above) and create the tension between the darkness below and the tranquility above. I was very much inspired by the works of Frazetta, N.C. Wyeth, Arthur Rackham and Maxfield Parrish.

Here are some of the images of the work in progress…

The pencil sketch

Persephone_pencil sketch

 

The painted sketch- to work out light values.

persephone_painted sketchThe final pencil drawing.

pencil

Detail of pencil drawing

pencil detail

Detail of final painting

detail

 

One of several watercolor textures I created for the painting. This one was used to show the roots and dirt below persephone.

texture

 

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50. NEW Ezzere Addition: The Cotter Dandelion Tank

NEW!! The Cotter Dandelion Tank
Exclusive design, quantities
will be limited…
don’t miss out!

dandelion tank movie

Pre-Order NOW!


Sizes




So I have some REALLY exciting news for you today, let me introduce you to the NEWEST addition to the Ezzere brand line!

This gorgeous Cotter-inspired tank channels the freedom and whimsey of the dandelion. Make your wishes, but ultimately follow your heart.

Ezzere teams up with Cotter Crunch for this new design, we bring you a one-of-a-kind design on a chic technical tank top.

This tank is running/fitness specific in cut and material, soft and made vibrant by colors.
ezzere dandelion tank
Pre-Order NOW!

• $38 + shipping
• Sweat wicking tech tee (90% poly/10% spandex blend)
• Sizes: small-large


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I also really love this latest design because I created it inspired by/for my amazing friend Lindsay of Cotter Crunch.

This begins my venture into adding more performance-based designs to the line. You already love the cozy, uber-soft Ezzere shirts that are great at wicking moisture…these sleek new shirts kick it up a notch. These babies are meant to REALLY do work…get you all the way to race day, toeing the line looking fierce and strong, motivate you to dig to the finish…then in true #SweatsintheCity style rock them the whole day after. ;)

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