It was self-taught Art
Lite.
In all seriousness, I did sell
original poster art in the early seventies. My art studio was a converted
dining room. The antique table provided a large workspace. The room had
a gothic ambiance of family antiques that had seen better days, that might
devolve into Grey Gardens-esque chaos.
At that time who would have predicted
the creation of the internet (besides a few visionary science heads)? These
days I'm into web design, drawing and painting - the internet being a wonderful
venue in which to be seen - or unseen. In the presence of my boxy workspaces,
I sometimes miss the days of the antique table in the gothic room.
running with pencils
It must have started with crayons.
Crayola, usually the small box, but sometimes the large economy size. The
crayons smelled good, but not as good as PlayDoh. Melting crayons smelled
good too.
Pencils were okay, kind of boring,
and when sharpened, allegedly dangerous. Be careful with that, you could
put your eye out! The pencils danced between blue lines on faded gray-speckled
notebook paper, letters into words into sentences into paragraphs, the
user marveling that letters formed words which formed language, and that
the human brain could process such things.
Pens were ballpoint or felt-tip
or fountain type, multi-coloured inks flowing and exploding between journal
covers in stream-of-consciousness rant. The pens illustrated the rant with
peace symbols and palm trees.
Typewriters were heavy and metal
and evil, causing young brains and fingers to produce clatter and noise
and mind-deadening language - I knew this. I had friends who typed.
Word processors were somehow not
as bad as typewriters, though either could take away the magic and rhythm
of the organic flowing pen - typing somehow being out of tune with channeling.
Years ago I inked my name and
drew peace symbols onto my denim-covered cardboard school binder. Dear
history instructor Becker, if you are not dead and are reading this,
please return my confiscated journal from nineteen-seventy. I need the
notes.
