funny letter

a wonderful place to surf:

http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2013/08/05/lewis-carroll-apology-letter/


From the endlessly delightful Funny Letters from Famous People (public library) — the same gem that gave us the best resignation letter ever written, courtesy of Sherwood Anderson — comes Carroll’s charmingly hyperbolic apologetic letter to Annie Rogers, a young friend and photography model whom he accidentally stood up in 1867.

My dear Annie:
This is indeed dreadful. You have no idea of the grief I am in while I write. I am obliged to use an umbrella to keep the tears from running down on to the paper. Did you come yesterday to be photographed? And were you very angry? Why wasn’t I there? Well the fact was this — I went out for a walk with Bibkins, my dear friend Bibkins — we went many miles from Oxford — fifty — a hundred, say. As we were crossing a field full of sheep, a thought crossed my mind, and I said solemnly, “Dobkins, what o’clock is it?” “Three,” said Fipkins, surprised at my manner. Tears ran down my cheeks. “It is the HOUR,” I said. “Tell me, tell me, Hopkins, what day is it?” “Why, Monday, of course,” said Lupkins. “Then it is the DAY!” I groaned. I wept. I screamed. The sheep crowded round me, and rubbed their affectionate noses against mine. “Mopkins!” I said, “you are my oldest friend. Do not deceive me, Nupkins! What year is this?” “Well, I think it’s 1867,” said Pipkins. “Then it’s the YEAR!” I screamed, so loud that Tapkins fainted. It was all over: I was brought home, in a cart, attended by the faithful Wopkins, in several pieces.
When I have recovered a little from the shock, and have been to the seaside for a few months, I will call and arrange another day for photographing. I am too weak to write this myself, so Zupkins is writing it for me.
Your miserable friend,
Lewis Carroll

wider view

another article from robert genn, reprinted with permission:

In 1984, Edward O. Wilson introduced the "Biophilia hypothesis." His idea was that there's an instinctive bond between humans and other living systems--animals, plants, etc. Leaning on the earlier work of Erich Fromm, Wilson defined Biophilia as "the urge to affiliate with other forms of life."

More recently, Bob Stone, a researcher in Birmingham, UK, has done some amazing experiments in hospitals and nursing homes. He puts large flat-screen terminals near patients' beds. The 24-hour imagery on these screens mimics the actual time of day, including sunrise and sunset. The scene might be a fairly static beach or woodland view with the occasional passage of birds or animals. Audio completes the picture.

Guess what? Patients cheer up, become more alert and engaged, have lower blood pressure, and act happier. Believe it or not, this phony environment even works a bit better than pushing people out into familiar gardens in wheelchairs.

In another experiment, this time in the USA, children with ADHD were subjected to actual greenery. Measurable amounts of calm, focus and improved concentration followed after about 20 minutes. They're calling it "Green therapy."

Plein air painters have known about this sort of thing for some time. The "event" of outdoor work somehow soothes the savage breast--after a couple of hours even problematic people can be positively mellow. As an antidote to the sweaty anxiety that many painters have in their studios, green therapy calms and centers quicker and cheaper than a Zen master. Brilliant for the artist's soul; over time it also improves quality.

I know of sunless painters who toil below screaming projectors and dictated deadlines. I've shouted down their stairways to get them out and into the greenery. Funnily, in a world of rugged individualists, it's probably fear that keeps them in their caves. Like the old folks of Birmingham, they get some sustenance from their reference material. Back in the UK, one lady, bedridden and virtually silent for two years, was totally perked up by her seaside-mimicking terminal. "Get my hat," she called out. "I need to take a bus to the sea. Is there a bus?"

Best regards,

Robert

PS: "Unlike phobias, which are the aversions and fears people have of things in the natural world, philias (such as Biophilia) are the attractions and positive feelings that people have toward certain habitats, activities, and objects in their natural surroundings." (Edward O. Wilson)

Esoterica: I'm laptopping you from a sport-fishing boat off the west coast of Vancouver Island. Over the inter-boat radio, my buddies are completely concerned with fish. Back at the lodge, dinner-table conversations can be positively fishy. Captains of industry, these guys hardly mention their offices or factories. I'm the only one supplementing fishing with painting. My advice: Take a bus to the sea while you still can. Hey, gotta go, there's a coho on my line.

working a puzzle

another nice article from robert genn, reprinted with permission:

A fellow painter told me her whole approach was intuitive. "Bob, it's not that your ideas aren't intelligent," she told me, "but I just don't need to know all that stuff." After telling me once again she paints how she feels, she went on to say that she wasn't feeling all that motivated. Later, I was wondering if it might be me un-motivating her.

Then I was remembering the many painters over the years who reported poor motivation and who also just happened to be from the intuition camp. Looking into old emails I found statements like, "It feels too easy to be worthwhile," "I can't be bothered anymore," "I don't know where I'm going," "All I paint is chaos," and "What's the use?"

That night I happened to be in an airport departure lounge. I couldn't help but notice a fellow traveller abandoning her half-completed crossword puzzle on the seat beside her. She had that internal smile that betrayed her satisfaction.

That was when my banana ripple fell off its cone. It's not only finishing the puzzle that satisfies, I realized, it's going word by word that brings the joy.

In painting, I use the puzzle system. I commit myself to one stroke or another at the beginning, then look around to see what my next move might be. Thus, I go from move to move--working out the puzzle--until it's either completed or abandoned.

The puzzle system starts with the proposition that you may not know what to do. The nice part is that, deep down, you have the feeling that you can figure it out. The system draws heavily on the skills of focus and concentration, as well as your accumulated knowledge of techniques and processes. A logical order may be desirable but, as in the case of the recently mentioned ice-cream cone, things can go this way or that. In other words, plenty of opportunities for intuition develop during the game. Further, the process is both additive and subtractive. Things you thought you needed turn out not to be needed; and things you didn't know were needed are suddenly seen to be needed. Balancing it all is quite an art.

Best regards,

Robert

PS: "Painting is the passage from the chaos of the emotions to the order of the possible." (Balthus)

Esoterica: If you decide to play this sort of game, if only as a test, you'll find there are challenges. Thinking is needed. As things go this way and that, you may, for example, need to dig for reference you hardly anticipated. Constantly asking the question "What could be?" may take you onto unfamiliar ground--maybe an odyssey of walking among the stars. The byproduct of this sort of structured but exploratory art-making is exhilaration. Thus joyfully obsessed, you may just happen to find yourself motivated. As far as I can see, the work is more like play. "Ludere ludum" said the Roman poet and philosopher Kjerkius Gennius (36 BC), "Play the game."

the other jean wilsons

 
Dr. Wilson as a student studied the control of urinary acid secretion by adrenal hormones as as a resident investigated cholesterol metabolism. At the NIH he studied ethanolamine biosynthesis, since 1960 he has been in the Department of Internal Medicine at UT Southwestern. In 1970 he worked at Cambridge University, and he has collaborated since 1985 with Marilyn B. Renfree in Melbourne investigating sexual differentiation in marsupials. His research has focused on two problems. The cholesterol project (1960-72)developed methods for quantification of cholesterol synthesis, absorption, degradation, and excretion in intact animals. Demonstration that plasma cholesterol is synthesized in the intestinal wall and liver led to development of paradigms to define the contributions of diet and endogenous synthesis to cholesterol turnover in humans and baboons. <snip>

and model Ruby Jean Wilson

 there are more, but these are the two most interesting.

negativity

here is post from robert genn. i have permission to repost his column.
IMHO this is a valid point. i will have additional comments at the end.
i respect anyone who disagrees with this perspective.
i do not expect everyone to agree with me,
but this might shed some light on why i critique my envelopes.

The art of negative thinking

May 17, 2013

 

Recently, I had the opportunity to look over the shoulders of two painters who were giving demonstrations on the same day. The first was almost deliriously positive and bubbly about his work, his wonderful life as an artist and his prior successes. Enthusiastic throughout, he shouted epiphanies and dispensed "empowerment" like rose petals at a wedding.

The second demonstrator spoke less and, when he did, it was mostly about problems he was having with the work--and other more worrisome ones that lay ahead. A couple of times he got himself into trouble--but he scratched his brain and was able to recover. Guess what--the gloomy malcontent did the better painting. We all applauded when he held it up. There were whistles. He didn't even smile.

This understanding has now been backed up in a new book by former Indiana and Texas Tech college basketball coach Bob Knight, aided by Bob Hammel: The Power of Negative Thinking: An Unconventional Approach to Achieving Positive Results.

"Superiority and success doesn't favor good effort or self-esteem," says Knight, "and it definitely doesn't hand out trophies for participation. The mentally precise and physically fit win, while the mediocre and obtuse take solace in hopeful cliches."

Bob and Bob have come to the conclusion that if you're perennially upbeat you're just setting yourself up for defeat. The positive thinker, they think, has a chronic "no danger ahead" disorder. He's so busy believing in himself that he's blindsided by oncoming problems and his own shortcomings.

Success, it seems, favours rigorous self-criticism. Here are some other interesting items I gleaned from the book:

Never gloat. Don't talk too much. Don't seek praise. Failure is endemic. Success is being hard to please. Be intolerant of failure. The easiest person to fool is yourself. Know your weaknesses. Be tough. Never let scanty positives override glaring negatives. Don't be a good loser. Don't satisfy yourself by just knowing you can do it. Do it. And by the way, keep God out of your equations:

"So when I hear a guy after a game-winning home run say or gesture that God was on his side," says Bob Knight, "I think to myself, 'He's saying God screwed the pitcher.' "

Best regards,

Robert

PS: Positive wish: "The sun will come out tomorrow." Negative reality: "Yeah, and it will flash brand-new daylight on the same old mess unless something is done to clean it up." (Bob Knight)

Esoterica: All my life I've noted artists who talk a good job and do a poor one. Perhaps it's our ego (particularly, but not always, in men) that keeps us on the muddy path to mediocrity. You know the type. They ask for help but what they really want is praise. These folks are stuck with what Bob Knight calls "the optimism bias." By thinking you are cleverer and more talented than your buddies, many a career has been blotted. My personal bias is that Bobs know better than everyone else. Bob Knight and Bob Hammel have a point. Be negative.

*****jean's comments

isn't it interesting how art and sports can be compared? on the surface, they seem so different but they are both activities that engage your right-brain AND your left-brain - if you allow that to happen. 

when i point out things that i don't like about my work, i am not saying that my art is bad or that i lack skills, i am just saying that i can see an opportunity to change something so that i like the piece better. and maybe i won't like it better after i see it. it is just being open to options and experimenting.

if you don't like options and you just want to execute projects where you know what to do and do not have to make decisions... that's fine with me. i, too, like to spend some of my time on projects that are simply focused on a pre-set pattern. they can be very relaxing projects where i enjoy the activity (the process) and give my brain a rest.

the rule of 17

http://ffbsccn.wordpress.com/2012/05/08/the-rule-of-seventeen-if-you-want-to-get-your-message-across-accepted-repeat-and-repeat-and/

oh, dear

i'm sorry. this is low brow. but, it's so darn clever, i had to start a new blog for things i don't want on my regular blog.

so here it is.

here is the website of the fellow who is on the return address.

http://monstersquid.com/

from his [about] section:

Aaron was born and raised (by giant squid) in Green Bay, Wisconsin and graduated from the University of Wisconsin with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in 1997. After leaving school and bouncing around to Chicago, then Copenhagen- he landed in California. In San Francisco, Blecha worked as an animator and character designer in the animation and toy industries. He moved to London in 2007 and has been freelancing ever since. Today he lives with his family in Brighton & Hove, on the south coast of England.

*****
and i did not see a single - don't repost anything without asking- on his website, so he must welcome the posting of his work.

the envelope is addressed to *Mail Me Art*
which is a fun project.

http://www.mailmeart.com/

you can kill a lot of time looking at stuff on that site.
i will refrain from collecting ideas and reposting, unless i run out of ideas on my regular blog.