Monday, April 11, 2016
MEDITATIONS IN A VENUSIAN GARDEN
One of the big pendejadas of life in the twenty-first century is that you end up spending so much time frying your eyes, staring into a glowing screen. The drawing board and sketchbook provide some relief, but what do you do when it's been hours, and you need a break? And if you're like me, so visually oriented that your idea of a good time is looking at stuff?
Luckily, I'm married to the fabulous Emily, and our house is surrounded by an incredible Venusian garden – that is, Venusian for the time being, during this cooler part of the year. Summer will be here soon, early again, and the heat and radiation levels will burn it into its Martian aspect. But for now, it has the look of Venusian jungle out of 1930s pulp sci-fi, or if you prefer a more high brow metaphor, a Max Ernst composition. A few steps out either the front or back doors, and I'm surrounded by strange lifeforms, struggling to survive in a harsh environment. If I'm not careful, they'll attack me and draw blood.
It takes me out of whatever writing or drawing I've been working on and derails my imagination into someplace different. Also forces me to focus my eyes a variety of distances. Sometimes I just enjoy the abstract beauty of the ever-changing light and color on jagged shapes. Sometimes it starts looking like art to me.
Must be my training. Sooner or later, everything starts looking like art to me.
So I take pictures. I never liked photography. It was too mechanical. Too much fiddling around to get everything perfect. I prefer my art to be an immediate confrontation, like a bullfight.
Then, Emily bought me a iTouch with a camera and encouraged me to use it. Since I have so little experience with photography, I'm not hampered by thinking of it as art or craft. I point and shoot, and if it doesn't come out right – delete it!
I have fun. It gives me something to post online. Who knows, it may actually come in handy with my wacko career, but I'm not worrying about that now. I'm getting distracted.
at 12:00 AM