Going Off The Wall

I have to admit that I have always found representational art boring, except when the things represented are aircraft, or automobiles. Back in 1972 I got in the habit of sketching, doing imaginative renderings in pen and ink and charcoal. I did get books on figure drawing and art anatomy and practiced representational drawing as a kind of discipline, but the objective was more control, so I could break rules with an objective. And then after doing this for a time and building a portfolio I let it all go dormant because I didn't have the time or inclination anymore and the stuff I did deteriorated so badly it had to be thrown away.
Digital photography and programs like Photoshop gave me a thought: why not try working in traditional media and use that as a starting point for digital manipulation? One thing I wanted to do, is transform small, rapid, sketches into big renderings.  When I retired, I thought I'd give this a try.

Here's a sample of some of the little sketches, done rapidly and then magnified. I've had to reduce file sizes on all of this stuff in order to post it here. 

I tried adding some color.

Back in 1972 I really liked surrealists and expressionists.  Max Ernst blew me away.

Some more sketches using surrealist methods:

Surrealists used techniques that generated a lot of accidental picture elements, and Photoshop did the same. I saw nothing wrong with that.

I was handicapped by the primitive digital cameras of that time. I had to use software to enlarge files so they could print at poster sizes but a lot of sharpness got lost.

I don't have the original mixed media forms of any of this. After I photographed things I tossed them. I've been kind of thinking about trying this again, since the cameras are much better and I don't have to drive anywhere. I can work on this in the garage. Problem is, I don't feel very creative anymore. I can't reach into my psyche and find stuff the way I used to, and I don't know how I could get that back. I think I've been living a very conventional life for too long. I don't "see" things the way I used to.

I'll continue with this old stuff next time.

Let's Finish Wilson!

I can't really see myself going back there. 

Historical stuff here!

I think the old Mercantile Building is the best thing in Wilson-- the ONLY thing worth seeing there. My wife and I were very lucky to have gotten a tour the first time we visited Wilson together. I've got that documented in this blog, elsewhere. You'll have to hunt for it. If you do, you will find many interesting things.

So! Next time I will show some things I did when I was experimenting with graphic art. I've got some of that in a very old blog entry but I think I will put up more examples and describe what I was doing. After that, it is going to be a lot of rambling around in memory lane!

More From Wilson

I think when this Wilson stuff is done, I will go way back into my archives and post pics from times YEARS ago-- going back as far as 2000, and even earlier. 1993? That's possible. Obviously, anything that old will have to be digitized. Meanwhile, here is more Wilson.

 This stuff is just as it was years ago.

Notice all the cotton? There's a cotton gin across the road. 

 This marks the spot, but for what purpose I do not know. It was not there the last time.

Does it look bleak to you?

What is it like to live in a town like Wilson? What is it like if you are a teenager? What is it like if you are a single adult? 

I will finish Wilson next time.

Another Look At Wilson-- An Experiment

This was an emotional experiment. The last time I was in Wilson my wife was with me, alive and well. We had a good time as I roamed around photographing the kinds of stuff I usually photograph. She told me what she knew about Wilson. It was a very nice day. We were happy. I wanted to see how it would feel to return. The short answer is: not good at all. The day was windy and dusty and cool and bleak. I was alone. I missed Sarjim very, very, much. I got photos and used the Nikon, but it felt like an exercise in futility. I drove back through Slaton. We had visited Slaton many times. She lived in Slaton once. She and her first husband owned a golf course there. She told me a lot of stories about Slaton. Being in Slaton felt even worse than being in Wilson-- Slaton was torture. Most people say it takes about a year to recover from a loss like mine. That means I've got nine months of this misery left. Someone I spoke to recently told me that you NEVER recover. Some sadness always remains. I can understand that. My wife was sometimes depressed and sometimes she spoke of her history. She lost two husbands. I wish I had her courage. She was a strong woman, determined to live life to the fullest.  But she still had times of sadness.  I don't think I'm going to do as well as she did.

So here is what I photographed in Wilson. Not much of a town. I picked the parts that looked interesting to me. I didn't stay there long because it just didn't feel good. I was going through the motions. I've been doing that a lot lately.

I don't understand how anyone manages to live in this place.

It really was more prosperous, once. But they still have a high school! And a football stadium! I didn't photograph that.

 Bits of foundation?

More from Wilson next time.