Scott moved from Seattle to Houston to be the artist in residence at Ecclesia.
He blogs and posts his amazing paintings at: http://transpireproject.wordpress.com/about/
"There shall come forth a rod from the stem of Jesse, and a netzer shall grow out of his roots." Isaiah 11:1 (NKJV)
Yesterday I gave an hour-and-a-half design breakout session for participants at the 2009 Baptist Media Forum at Camp Buckner, up near Inks Lake. The seminar was entitled Between Heaven & Helvetica: How Good Design Can Energize Your Existing Communications. I hadn't delivered a talk that long before, so I was a little nervous to say the least. I figured I'd leave a half-hour for Q&A and prepared what I thought was an hour's worth of content.
My stated purpose was to "embark upon an interactive, multi-sensory conversation among designers, self-proclaimed non-creatives, quasi-creatives, and people who have to work with creatives in order to sketch at the intersection(s) of good design, good theology, and our role as culture creators." True to form, it was meandering and quirky — a soupçon of history, theology of the Imago Dei, a little design philosophy and advice, and visual inspiration/stimulation (I hope).
About 15 minutes into it, I realized I had too much content, but pressed forward, and we ended up getting through most of it without much compromise. Before I went on, my friend Marcus Goodyear gave a great presentation on online community building; I knew he was going to skew his content heavily (actually completely) online, so I weighted my presentation toward traditional media and channel-neutral branding design.
The preso was a mashup featuring three youth media case studies tied to some theological points I made at the presentation's "history unlesson" ... as well as a gallery of twenty logos I had designed, which I will glom together and present to you below. I also re-fashioned and re-presented my "six design nuggets for non-creatives" talk as a 10-minute overview.
I was really pleased with the mix of people — I asked the group of media professionals (I assumed I'd be getting mostly PR folks, writers and editors) to classify themselves (how modern of me): almost a third of the room comprised designers and creatives. Another third considered themselves quasi-creative, and only one guy thought he was a non-creative.
My friend Tim Snyder made the trip out to the hill country with his visiting friend (my new friend) Josh. They audited the whole session and Josh participated in the interactive [Playdoh sculpting!] portion of the talk as well. With them and Marcus and my friend Brad Russell from The Baptist Standard there in the room, I was more at ease than I would've been.
After the presentation, Tim and Josh and I spent the rest of the day together. On the drive back to San Antonio, we stopped in the Blue Bonnet Café in Marble Falls, TX. That's Josh and his chocolate meringue pie. After that we crashed at my house for a bit ( I really needed a nap) before heading to Alamo Drafthouse Theater to see Slumdog Millionaire.
It was a nice break in the middle of the week.
I leave you with an excerpt from an essay by Leland Ryken that I published in Communiqué back in the day, and dredged up for the conversation yesterday (but didn't have time to share with the group):
Here's a handful of the logos I've designed* — I used these in the presentation:
*the All Saints logo was a collaboration between myself and Von Glitschka, whose work also made it into the presentation.
two of my stations of the cross from last year.
i miss that harmony guitar.
photographed by reallivepreacher
Station 10: Jesus is Crucified (detail on right)
Station 14: Jesus is Laid in the Tomb (detail on right)
i'm available by commission to finish the other twelve.
In other good art news, I sold another painting today to a new friend from the west coast. You may remember EX VOTO from the Eucharist Series. I'm getting ready to crate it up and get it safely to San Francisco. There are still paintings and prints of mine at Viva Books all during December for all your Christmas presents. Prices range from $10 (giclée mini prints, matted) to $1200. And everything in between.
File under beautiful. In the wonderful tradition of Howard Finster, there's Grandma Prisbrey. I had forgotten about her beer bottle village until I rediscovered this ironic cathedral in an LA Times article this morning.
FOLK ART: In 1956, Tressa “Grandma” Prisbrey began constructing the buildings, scouring a local dump for the bottles, beer cans and other tossed-out items to fashion into walls and sidewalks.
(Los Angeles Times)
November 23, 2008
Some GREAT early morning news from the book's F+W editor, Amy, via Danny Gregory:
"The book just hit our warehouse on 11/11, so it should be on bookstore shelves in about two weeks. But it has now been officially "released" and Amazon pre-orders should begin moving very soon."
• We had to add more books to the initial print run because of all the pre-orders
• Also, on Amazon, we are #1 in Graphic Design and #1 in Drawing. (#1,308 in Books overall!)
• You can still hear the An Illustrated Life podcast interviews (including mine) here.
• Please consider pre-ordering your copy today at Amazon - you save $6.40 -- 32%!
"An Illustrated Life" is shipping advance copies. With any luck, mine will arrive downtown at my studio tomorrow. see how many of my sketchbook pages you can find in this promo video artfully compiled and narrated by Danny Gregory:
just ran across this old photo. not under a bed or in a dusty album, but hanging, right there on the wall, unnoticed for so many years. i think of myself as a visual person, but sheesh. right under my nose.
yes, kids, we were once young. here, amy was two months pregnant with jordan. we had headed across the pond for one last hurrah. london, england. we stayed in a little b&b: macdonald's & devon hotel on argyle square, a few steps away from kings cross st. pancras underground station.
the trip comes back to mind now as a swirl of memories and lots of walking and many strange meet-ups — amy's college girlfriend jena was there, taking classes at a baylor-in-london program, as was our friend janelle (syler's best friend's wife!); my mom and a close family friend carol coincidentally also overlapped our time in london while they were visiting carol's daughter julie and her then-boyfriend (now husband) jamie, so we all hung out one day; our tour guide was one of amy's old boyfriends, a cinematographer d/p named koen. amy and i also took a train out to southend-on-sea to visit our friend debbie's parents and their prized koi. we even ran into gordon sumner, but that's another story.
days and days of taking it all in ... westminster, piccadilly circus, trafalgar square, buckingham, ah! portobello road, the tower of london -- ravens -- tower bridge ... as i recall my mom and i listened to a hauntingly beautiful requiem in st. paul's cathedral the same day that we all toured st. martin-in-the-fields.
halfway through the trip i traded my relatively long hair (shown in the photo, above) for an ultra-short, very trendy-at-the-time razor-cut caesar. it was the best hair cut i'd ever had, and i've never had better. odd confession: every time i ease myself into a barber's or stylist's chair, i can't help but compare the cut i'm about to get to that one day in the u.k.. -- in my mind, i throw down the gauntlet to each would-be cutter: who here can top that haircut?
no one.
i answer in my head before they've even started. they're cutting, but i'm not paying attention. i'm remembering the place, the stainless chair with black leather — i remember it having a le corbusier feel to it — the exposed brick wall of the london salon, the feminine/masculine smell of the oddly androgynous butch wax, the violent precision with which the stylist worked, the feel of the short haircut in the cold london streets, the crisp buzzed neck-hair brushing against my shirt collar and jacket — it all comes back, and when my attention returns to the half-awake stylist in front of me, i know i'll be disappointed with any haircut i receive.
a fortnight in london is just about right. you shed your american self long enough to be a sensitive interloper, glad to return to the comforts of home. for all the vacation scrapbooking and journaling amy and i have done, we've never taken the time to document london. i think sometime soon i'll go hunting for the rest of the photos.
So like I said, Amy and I just got back from eight days in California.
Click for a first gallery (more to come)
It was wonderful on so many levels. First and foremost? Time alone to rediscover, enjoy and relax with Amy. A celebration of fifteen years of marriage. The weather and the flights and food and the downtime were all superb, the journey and the destinations were picture-perfect and meaningful. The friends we reconnected with along the way were hospitable and fun and funny and myriad. The trip was even educational (learned a little about wine during the first third of the trip and a little about youth media in the last). I did a much better job about living in the moment. Didn't spend my whole time behind the lens or buried in sketchbooks. Our 5 senses were each a little more alive, aware, acute.
Wednesday
We flew San Antonio to San Diego to San Fransisco (the via santa?); wove through the City, over Golden Gate Bridge (stopping only long enough to snap a quick photo) and drove all the way up hwy 101 to our B&B in Cloverdale. Stopped along the way in Santa Rosa for farmers' market. Italian for dinner. Strolled Cloverdale's main street; Explored our B&B's gardens.
Thursday
On Thursday, Amy and I were awakened by the time zone difference and the excitement of being in a new place — plus, we got a good night’s sleep in a very comfortable bed. Where the night before had been hot and humid — Wednesday had reached 106°F in this inland part of northern California — this morning was crisp and cool. Large temperature differentials are a hallmark of Sonoma County — good for grape-growing. We got up and milled around the upstairs of the B&B a little: there’s a little hospitality room on the other side of the house that has coffee, hot tea, a small ice maker, and a fridge with sodas, juice and water.
After a bit we decided to go out for a pre-breakfast walk in downtown Cloverdale. The B&B is on Third St. just a block off Cloverdale Drive, the main street, and pretty much in the center of this tiny town. We took our time, snapped some iPhone shots of interesting buildings, and after some searching, eventually found Underground Coffee wedged in the back of an antique store. Amy: a blueberry muffin; me: a dolce latté. On the side wall of the antique store four large murals depict historical scenes of life in Cloverdale — one for each season, though the seasons were vaguely depicted and to the point where for a while we weren’t sure which painting matched which season. Heading back, I snapped a tiled panorama of Pick’s, a hamburger joint that’s been around for 70 years or so.
Breakfast was fun: we had two house mates, a young couple from Stockholm, who were enjoying California while on vacation and probably enjoying the favorable exchange rate as well. We were served Dutch pancakes with homemade pomegranate syrup— as well as some apple-gouda sausages, mini muffins and coffee. I also had a light peach nectar which had the consistency of apple juice, and Amy and the Swedish couple had orange juice. Don, our host, would disappear from time to time, bringing out the small courses; first, the muffins, then the sausages and pancakes, then returning with the syrup. He’s a good conversationalist and was very interested in helping us plan our day in the Dry Creek appellation. Within fifteen or twenty minutes, we had recommendations and a highlighted map.
We toured a handful of Dry Creek wineries and ended up sampling wines at fewer than we stopped at. Asti's Cellar No. 8, Fritz, Ferrari-Carano (mostly for its well-tended gardens). We enjoyed a picnic luncheon overlooking Lake Sonoma (note the Dublin Dr. Pepper we enjoyed with panini from the Dry Creek General Store. Later in the day we fell in love with Bella vinyard and its wine caves and checked out quaint Preston winery as well. Romantic drive along West Dry Creek Road to Quivira. Poked around bookstores and stationers in touristy-but-serene Healdsburg, and walked barefoot in the cool grass in their town square. Back at the B&B's beautiful gardens, we watched dusk turn into night as we traded stories with the innkeepers Don and Mary before turning in.
Friday
More fascinating breakfast conversation. More guests had arrived, and our table mates included a couple from Nova Scotia and our Swedish friends. We packed up the car and kicked back in the gardens before bidding farewell to Don and Mary and the Swedes. Instead of retracing hwy 101 back to San Francisco (hereafter, the City), we decided to take the scenic route, which allowed us to explore the Eastern side of 101, back through Healdsburg (found some cute shops and a really cool kwanset-hut antique store). Peeked into Simi winery but didn't stick around for the tour.
Lunch in Windsor, mostly to find free Wi-fi. Happened upon a pizzeria on its second day of business. During lunch's email-check, we discovered one of my dear high school friends is pregnant, and another high school friend was in the Bay area touring colleges with her son and her high school aged daughter.
Friday afternoon we made our way into the City, did a driveby of The Haight, and settled into Golden Gate Park where we toured the Botanical Gardens for a couple hours. Then it was off to Grace Cathedral (that's where my friends Vanessa and Will are both associate pastors), where we met up with Ryan, Holly, Paxton, and others in the Seven community, because the Jesus for President tour coincidentally had rolled into town. Cobalt Season played during the intermission, and I had an amazing evening, and got to say a brief hello to Shane and Chris. And I met the head of Grace's labyrinth guild. They have a guild that takes care of their two Chartres-styled labyrinths (one indoors, the other out). Made me want to learn more about the Psalters.
The Sharps pointed us to Liberty Café for a late-night nosh in Bernal Heights, but it closed as we were walking up. Rats. We ended up getting really turned around and frustrated with driving around the Mission District before settling on a 24-hour diner, then coming back to Ryan and Holly's and crashing.
Saturday
Slept in. Way in. Smelled the coffee sometime after 9:30 and stumbled toward the aroma. Then I saw it. The view. The house where the Sharps are house-sitting has this amazing view of the water. It's breathtaking in daylight and beautifully sequined at night. We chatted with Holly and Ryan, ate some AMAZING Cali cinnamon toast, watched Pax, and made plans to hook up with Lisa and her kids at the notable Zachary's Chicago Pizza at Berkeley (note to self: the drive from Oakland Hills to Berkely on 13 was amazingly beautiful in July). We walked around Trader Joe's, then made our way (with a hot pizza in hand for our hosts) back to Casa Sharp where our Emergent friend Adam Klein was celebrating his birthday. His extended family members were there as well as his Seven friends, many of whom Amy and I met for the first time. From about 1pm to maybe 1am we enjoyed the longest pool party in my remembrance, with some really neat people as well. I built a little fire when it got cold and we were thankful for the heated pool (thanks again, Ryan). At some point in the evening, rock-n-roll photographer and friend Daley came to the house as well, after shooting a wedding in Berkeley. Everyone was in rare form that evening. Rare form.
Sunday
Our original plan was to visit St. Gregory of Nyssa for a "now-for-something-completely-different" worship experience (watch the whole video if you have time). But the pool party and travels had decided for us: more sleeping in. So here's what we did. More morning coffee and cinnamon toast. (Sorry, Bob, we never made it to bakesale betty either)... we lounged and caught up on email. So did Daley and Ryan and so the whole breakfast table looked like an Apple convention. We just embodied the sabbath. Rested. Then said some sad good-byes and snapped some photos before Amy and I left for the Union Square area. Crossed Bay Bridge into the city and before long, arrived at Hotel Nikko. Checked in and rested a little in our room before walking up (and up and up) to California, back to Grace Cathedral, where Amy and I were the guests at a Sunday School class (in a beautiful library) where they were talking about being Ordinary Radicals. Vanessa and Will invited us there so we could talk about our faith-journey, our Trinity House experiences as well as our Covenant experiences, and a little bit about my role in illustrating Jesus for President.
Then we went up to the choir part of the cathedral and had a beautiful evening contemplative service with a Eucharist. Sigh. It was really amazing, and an amazing cap to an amazing weekend. Vanessa, Will, Matt, and Anna treated us to dinner and laughter at Farmerbrown afterwards. Then it was back to the hotel, time to shift into Conference Mode.
Monday/Tuesday
Soon I'll blog more about the 2008 YPulse Mashup, an international youth media conference that drew a diverse crowd. Prosocial was the meme this year. Like founder Anastasia said here:
"While we do focus on effective ways to reach youth with technology, our audience is about one third non-profit/advocacy organizations so branding could be branding for a company or branding for an agency serving youth. [We had] sessions on this year's election, youth activism, on whether girls are the new geeks, and [one on] what folks who create web sites for youth can do about cyberbullying.
So it was not just about "selling stuff to kids" it was also about using those technologies effectively and authentically to reach them whether it is with a product that is actually useful or a message that could save their lives or inspire them to create social change."
Wednesday
Was a travel day, so following a night of Chinatown and cable cars, it was nice to just sit on a plane and be. The kids gave us a great welcome, as did my parents, who along with my mother-in-law, took care of the four little ones.
More blogging soon. Again, check out the photos.
I'll post more once our 35mm gets digitized.
daley hake snapped this as we were saying our farewells to ryan and holly sharp. staying with our friends was the perfect punctuation mark between the sonoma county mini-vacation and the ypulse youth media conference.
i'll do some more intensive blogging soon about the whole trip, but just wanted to say hello, we're having a blast, and we miss you all...
— paul
that's my mom in the blue striped shirt; that's my dad down there in the shades and baseball hat.
this morning amy and i accompanied my parents to comfort, texas 45 miles northwest of san antonio, up in kendall county. growing up we drove through comfort to get to my summer camp, and my parents have enjoyed weekends there before.
we enjoyed the small town parade and being pelted by candy. i can wholeheartedly recommend high's café and store on high street. i enjoyed a lot of old typography and hand-lettering on signs). we saw a family friend who was actually in the parade. we didn't stick around to see miss comfort crowned later this afternoon. instead we headed back to eat lunch at the longhorn café, one of the triumvirate of great san antonio burger joints (the other two being chris madrid's and chester's, followed very closely behind by orderup).
according to wiki, this town of 3.2 square miles "was a community of freethinkers and abolitionists in the 1800s. pro-slavery marauders carried out massacres in this town of german immigrants."
I've spent two of the last three afternoons exploring the newly revamped McNay — "our" art museum (the museum sits on 23 wooded acres in our neighborhood). At long last the new Jane & Arthur Stieren Center for Exhibitions, designed by Jean-Paul Viguier, is now open. And it was all good. In addition to revisiting works by Monet, O'Keefe, Picasso, Motherwell, Dali, Gauguin, Johns, Manet, Pollock, Judd, de Kooning, Indiana, Calder, Cézanne, van Gogh, Rodin, Matisse, Hopper, Moore (and more), you'll find several striking pieces by Kent Rush, an artist and art educator who lives several doors down from me. Had no idea his pieces were in the McNay, though I shouldn't have been surprised. I was also smiling to see a recent acquisition: an early- 90s era Skoglund in all of its purple-pink surburbia overkill.
Anyway take it all in:
American Art Since 1945:In a New Light
June 7–August 24, 2008
Was thinking about incomplete projects today.
All our best-intentioned efforts.
Things I've said 'yes' to — because I'm wired to say 'yes' …
then set aside for many reasons. play, pause. play, pause.
Not so much aborted because the thing didn't have merit,
but maybe more because something else had more merit.
Not so much ignored because of entropy,
but maybe more because I have too many plates spinning on sticks.
Not so much started because saying 'yes' was
modeled as a child in my artist-mom and fix-it-all-dad,
though that's in there somewhere.
Not so much started because my identity
is too enmeshed in seeking approval of others,
though the tendency to be a pleaser is in there as well.
And it reminded me of this stations of the cross project.
I only have two stations completed (the two above are
further along than when this shot was taken).
I allowed myself to give up the project for now because
it was already used in context with another group stations project.
And maybe because they weren't being
executed the way I had envisioned.
Now they're sitting in a corner of an unused room gathering dust.
And I no longer have the drive to complete the project. for now.
Maybe
Maybe when the seasons turn cool and Ordinary Time gives way
to the rhythmic sway of Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent
maybe then I'll be inspired.
It of course brings up questions of the agency of the
Holy Spirit in the Christ-follower's life.
Are we to truly be children of the Wind?
Breeze-Flexible, Malleable, willing to follow the Wild Goose?
Yes, ¿no?
Then:
Is artistic inspiration extractable from spiritual in-spiration?
In-filling In-dwelling In-breathing?
And is this a cop-out?
I just didn't feel inspired today. Or yesterday for that matter.
Or is it soul-care for the over-burdened, a lesson for the weary,
cardinal direction for the wayward dabbler?
and then there's the home-front:
the deck that's falling apart;
the soil beneath my dead lawn that's
starting to crack from dehydration;
a thousand points of shame to own and be
embarrassed about mostly when relatives come to visit.
lack of landscaping. dehydrated lawn. cracked
foundation. peeling paint. dilapidated deck.
do i own these failures more than others?
how do these not kill you all? nagging failures…
when it comes to labor, it's in much worse form
to pull the "i'm just not inspired" card.
there's always the "i'm tired" card.
i ramble.
Before Interstate 35 forever changed traffic patterns in San Antonio, there was the Bun-N-Barrel. It opened its doors one bright morning in 1950 along one of the main drags — old Austin Highway — a few blocks from where I now live. It once comprised three restaurants: the more famous Bun-N-Barrel (a classic drive-in for burgers, fries and shakes), a walk-up and take-out barbecue pit in the back, and the Terrace steakhouse a few yards uphill. Supposedly in the 50's John Wayne and the cast and crew of The Alamo were regulars. The drive-in is an apropos meeting place ("Honk for Curb Service") for folks who painstakingly restore classic automobiles.
Out in the barbecue pit, they use the original pair of firebrick pits to cook and smoke their barbecue using Texas hill country oak. For 65¢ per pound ("10¢ per pound extra for whole pigs, boar, or large game fish"), they'll take whatever game you've killed and cook it for you.
An hour ago I was heading home to get some work done at my home workstation, and for some reason I felt the lure of the barbecue pit. It has been years since I'd been around back and wasn't sure it was still open. Sure enough, Joe and Josie were behind the counter, the industrial plastic container was filled with sweet tea, and I was able to get a chopped BBQ sandwich replete with fries, dill pickles and onion slices in no time. Inside, it smells like the real deal, and it thankfully the decor hasn't changed much since opening day.
The iPhone seemed anachronistic to unsheathe in this joint, but I captured a few images on my way back out to the car (click thumbnails for larger images):
I'm on my way out of the office, heading home, but I wanted to post this really quick since I didn't have time the last 2 days.
Lunches have always been really good alone time for me to muse, draw, photograph, be alone with my thoughts, pray. Yesterday I stole away a few blocks south of here to San Fernando Cathedral (this church is the oldest cathedral sanctuary in the U.S. and the official geographic center of my home town). I walked their stations of the cross and then headed across the courtyard to their little café for a $1.95 grilled cheese sandwich.
At lunchtime the day before, I headed a few yards north of me to the Southwest School of Art & Craft (next door to our design studios) and stepped into another thin space -- the courtyard at the school has this little hand-cut limestone fountain that I really admire. Before heading into the Copper Kitchen (the century-old refectory at the former convent there on the school campus), I took a slew of tiled photos of the fountain and its surroundings with my little iPhone camera, hoping to merge them later.
Later, while I was busy doing other things on the Mac at work, I let Photoshop auto-merge the pictures. It detects edges and, depending on the settings, tries its best to create a seamless panorama.
I ran it through several different ways, and it's fascinating to see how the computer rendered the composited scene Two different auto merged files are shown here (click on each thumbnail for a larger view):
I sat down and talked with chad crawford (that's him in the photo, errr, not me) about a month or two ago. He's one half of the homebrewed christianity podcast, which is also co-hosted by his friend trip fuller. fun stuff: they've gone and published that interview on their audio podcast.
or just listen.
trip and chad are seminary buds who do the podcast both as a way to further explore their faith and as a way to keep in contact across time zones, now that chad's relocated to san antonio.
Heads-up — for the soupablog readers out there who might be offended by the stray PG-13 word, you might want to skip trip's and chad's intro (there's a lot of banter at the beginning, the S-word, and some odd-but-funny glossolalia humor), and instead head straight to my interview about a third of the way in.
topography from Huba Gancsos on Vimeo. HT to Kent Kingery
here is the long overdue gallery of photos from our 2008 spring break trip to ruidoso: it's a photo-collaboration between members of the soupiset and broderick family, taken using several cameras and phone-cameras. highlights include emma just being silly, a cool collection of old neon motel signs (i spent a morning doing nothing but driving around ruidoso looking for 'em!), and an obligatory shot of jordan with a candy cigarette for shock value. you'll see trestle bridges, ancient petroglyphs, some stalagmites, a greyhound named pirate, an ancient can of shuffleboard wax, and yours truly on snow skis. [march 16-21, 2008.]
i should note that many of the best photos were taken by high school freshman sheridan broderick; impressive eye for composition. she's at least a third generation artist.
or, A Tale of Two "Dannys" and Two "Everydays"
When I knew I was traveling to NYC recently, there were three people I wanted to sit down with and have conversations. The first was a former design intern named Danny Adrain, who is now a senior designer at Razorfish. The second was Thomas Turner, the young editor of Everyday Liturgy. And the third was Danny Gregory, a fellow creative director / author / sketchbook artist / podcaster, and creative force behind the Everyday Matters movement / craze / meme.
I ended up getting to hang with all three. I digress.
Danny Gregory, his wife Patti, and their son Jack welcomed me into their world for an hour or so — they live in a beautiful eighth floor apartment in the Village. Every inch of their apartment was either window glazing, book shelves, or space for hung artwork.
After talking a while [and letting the dogs smell me], we sat down and recorded this audio podcast about my moleskine journal sketching, about my faith and art and intersections therein. It's one of those things where afterwards, listening to it, I felt strange and self-conscious about all of the things I would've said differently (did I represent my art well enough? did I represent my faith well enough? my upbringing, parents and education? did I come off like a total dweeb? important questions like that).
Nonetheless, I invite you to listen. And commentezvous, por favor.
photos by oscar williams
i waited to blog about my recent new york trip, hoping some unifying thread would be found running through the whole of the tapestry — some way to serve up the sights and sounds and smells of the last week that would remain engaging. some way to let you experience some of the energy of the city, some of the joys and loneliness of being a solo guy traipsing around manhattan, of being a fish out of water in a consultancy full of anglican vibe, some of the small pleasures in meeting new friends, in logging a few precious hours with some heretofore online friends, in spending a few quiet evenings with friends danny and kristen trying restaurants in their park slope neighborhood of brooklyn.
no magical thread has been found, other than a celebration of the beautiful, threadless remnants that would not be sewn together, and a new label for that tendency of mine towards assemblage, appropriation, pastiche, and montage: yes, the word of the week was bricolage.
bri•co•lage (n) Something made or put together using whatever materials happen to be available
robert wuthnow's book after the baby boomers: how twenty and thirty-somethings are shaping the future of american religion was the preparatory text for the consultancy hosted by trinity church wall street; one of the main pulls from the text was the idea of spiritual tinkering:
Like the farmer rummaging through the junk pile for makeshift parts the spiritual tinkerer is able to sift through a veritable scrap heap of ideas and practices from childhood, from religious organizations, classes, conversations with friends, books, magazines, television programs and web sites. The tinkerer is free to engage in this kind of rummaging...
maybe i'll post some of my new york sketches soon. but for now, i'll post a few of the photos i shot (haven't been color corrected yet or anything).
m is for: manhattan. moma. mosaics.
then after brooklyn, guggenheim, apple store,
i headed out to west cornwall, connecticut:
The first three scans are the standard moleskine sketchbook; the balance are moleskine watercolor notebooks. This was about all the sketching I did while on vacation, but it was fun nonetheless. With the exception of the one pencil + watercolor, all of them were done using my standard supplies, staedtler black pigment liners (4-pack: .01, .03, .05, .07 mm), and windsor & newton artist's watercolor compact set (11 cm × 13.5 cm)
In conjunction with the upcoming book, An Illustrated Life: Drawing Inspiration From The Private Sketchbooks Of Artists, Illustrators And Designers, Danny Gregory has launched a new audio podcast to introduce you to the fifty artists who will appear in its pages.
"Each episode features a lengthy interview with a different contributor as well as examples of their work. Until the book itself appears on Amazon (October, '08), we will have to make do with these interesting conversations. Please listen to the first episode and subscribe via RSS or iTunes."
When I'm in New York later this month, I hope to catch up with Danny over a shared meal and capture a podcast conversation in person. I'll keep you informed.
Remember that "sketchbookbook" I told you about a few months ago? ¿No?
Last year I was asked to be a small part of a new book compiled by Everyday Matters author Danny Gregory. Honored, I gathered together some of my favorite 2007 Lentenblog sketches and a few other Moleskine goodies, and packaged them up and sent them off to NYC.
Over the next few months, as the sketches started pouring in from around the world, Danny gave contributors little sneak peeks, so we could catch a glimpse of the other artists' work. Trust me: this is going to be a cool book. One I'm honored to be part of. Anyway, it'll be 272 pages, full color, and chock-full of a wide array of illustrated journals, inky sketchbooks, watercolored Moleskines, with essays and interviews with the artists as well.
It's finished now, and being printed and readied for distribution in December:
An Illustrated Life: Drawing Inspiration
From The Private Sketchbooks Of
Artists, Illustrators And Designers.
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I can't wait! Get the word out, bloggers, ye!
— paul
an unused sketch (based on a line from the book) from the forthcoming Jesus for President
click the video thumbnail above to watch a vlog version
Finally.
Rain, illness, travel and other hurdles had kept me from coming back to the labyrinth site until today. I borrowed my dad's gasoline-powered weed-eater and went to the back of the property this afternoon.
It was very peaceful. I was the only one there. It was really nice to be alone.
So for about the first hour this afternoon I used the weed-eater to chop off a bunch of dead shin- and knee-high grass. By about 4:00 it looked like this. The clump in the foreground is about an inch tall.
Next, I used this $4 rake to clear the dead grass away. This took about twice as long as I had planned; I got twice the number of blisters I had planned… But then, just as the sun had dropped below sight, I had finished — well, at least enough to rest. Just in time for a metaphoric shabbat.
If you squint, you can kind of see the circle of the labyrinth starting to take shape.
the Prayer Walk, off in the background of this photo will lead straight into the Labyrinth.
The center of the labyrinth will be where the surveryor's flag and dog tie-out are located, there in the middle of the composition.
It's only after periods of exhausting physical labor that the God-phrase "It is finished" comes to mind. I think of Christ's work on the cross, and I think about the YHWH's work in the creation accounts. I think about resting after work, and I think about saying, "It is good" and letting it apply both to the end result and to the process of having worked hard.
Paul Soupiset is a graphic designer, illustrator, songwriter, liturgist, youth media consultant, journalist, mentor, typophile, husband, father, and self-described armchair theologian who lives in San Antonio, Texas, USA, with his wife Amy and four children.
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