View from a kayak – This will probably be my next painting. I am working on getting back to the simplicity and beauty of water and how light reacts on its surface and even more important through its depths. It’s been a long time since we have kayaked and today we broke a streak.
Unfortunately, didn’t break the streak of being skunked. Smallmouth bass are sitting on the bottom laughing at the hapless fishermen as we speak. But this post is not about fishing or painting-it’s about being out there.
It was truly an amazing day. The sky was brilliant blue, the redbuds and bradford pear competing to be noticed. We didn’t even rush to get the kayaks out, there was plenty of time to just enjoy being there.
We threw crank baits and tubes, slabs and even some topwater and the fish wouldn’t budge. In fact we didn’t mark many fish on the fish finder. We paddled, we paddled and paddled some more and even though the 54° water filled the back of my boat and we fought the wind for several hours nothing mattered than the feeling of being emerged in the beautiful scenery.
I remembered what I didn’t like about kayaking, the stiff legs, awkward tangling of lines but more than this I realized what I missed. First, my son and nephew enjoying themselves, my brother and I throwing jokes and thoughts back and forth.
I remembered what I have been missing in painting the brilliance of water, the smells and the colors of spring stirred memories. In some areas the rocks and pristine blue-green water looked like how I envision Greece and its rocky white cliffs against the Aegean.
The exploration of another two miles of the lake makes me realize just how many more open areas and hidden bits of paradise that are just waiting to be discovered. By car or by kayak I am excited about starting the journey to bring words and pix from all the faraway places, even those that aren’t so far away.
So much to learn, so little time. I have worked feverishly to learn as much as I can and use the marketing tools that are more easily available and affordable than ever. My thought is before showing your art; build an audience to show to.
I have learned that you can’t fake social media. It’s not something you can throw out a like or two, connect a little, stay outside the crowd and give a comment now and than.
Why Social Media?
The point of social media is to connect, really connect with people, customers and friends who may know other customers and other friends. It replaces the coffee shop where every one goes and tries to be social and ends up isolated behind a laptop.
If you spam, you will be rewarded with a big slap down from the powers that be. Spam is more than just sending out stuff that no one needs, it’s trying to build connections based on your needs and not whom you are connecting with.
Engagement
Likes are very common but comments and interaction, that’s a very different thing. How do you resonate with a group of strangers and make them friends instead of strangers. You connect with honesty, you show them that what they are doing is important to you and you share and share more.
If you think your doing yourself a favor connecting with multiple tweeters, this is where spam has an open door. Your numbers of followers will grow quickly but so will your spam files.
Connect with genuine like-minded people with some of the same interests as you. Choose your followers and whom you follow wisely, all tweet followers are not the same.
Results
Shares and plus 1s have replaced the likes and the random follower now and than. You can then learn more about the people you connect with. I have been invited to join more groups and have had some wonderful conversation back and forth.
I have also learned the idea of SEO optimization-you better get the words out you are there and the only way is tag, tag and tag some more with words that are proven that people are searching for. Ask yourself why other artists dominate the Google search and learn from them.
I have just updated my website-something that has needed to be done for quite a while. It was created in wordpress and I am enjoying not only the increased functionality of available development tools but also I am being able to streamline all of my social media avenues through the site.
Building a Brand
This is all about building a brand. Build something that connects all of your media, improve how the Internet finds you and make sure when some one does find you; you are available to connect, yes truly connect. Next blog post, positives and negatives of building a store and what exactly that entails. Please stay tuned.
Day after the rain at the spillway Beavers Bend State Park
I have been to Beavers’ Bend on many occasions but this time with a flexible amount of time and not much planned I feel like I got to see more than usual.
I was able to enjoy photographing for the pleasure of finding out-of-the-way images. My intention was to shoot the clarity of the water and the misty diffused atmosphere of the rainy evening that we arrived.
My first project was the glistening pine needles against the darkness of the lake and the dam. I used a large aperture so I could allow for a sharp foreground and a soft unfocused background.
The most enjoyable aspect of this particular trip was shooting for a specific image that I had in mind and being able to shoot until I found the combination I was striving for.
It was cold and wet photographing in the rain but if my son didn’t mind fishing in the rain, I didn’t mind photographing.
Broken Bow Lake
I have always known that for every good shot you get, you tend to shoot large amounts of frames and this particular shoot rang true. So many images look better in the mind than in actuality and others seem to create themselves after they’ve been composed.
Father and Son Fishing – Even as the relationship of the parent to child changes so does the simplest form of recreation. I sat by a trout stream today and watched several groups of dads with their sons. I noticed a contrast to my relationship, the different stages of a father and son or daughter teaching their child to fish.
The day before, in the rain, it was a mother and her son and they had been fishing with a guide the last two days. It is wonderful to see the interaction when there is no drama, no daily problems to solve, just the water, its intoxicating sound and nature as an amazing backdrop.
There were several stages I noticed, the young son who wasn’t as interested as dad in fishing. The fidgeting with bugs and not paying as much attention to the pole or the bobber in the water. The dad takes most of his time reeling in the two and adjusting the baits and throwing them out again. The son is more excited just being out with dad.
The next group was the older son, where he still looks at his dad with wonder, still asks questions and is in awe as dad brings up the fish or teaches the new knot. There is an excitement among them and a pride you can see in the dads’ eyes-it is a mutual experience of perfecting the art of fishing.
Than there is my son, a teenager, he is distant from me. More intent on the time to himself, there is a zone I can see he gets to, where there is nothing but the water and himself and the illusive trout. I help him with his fly casts as he is still learning but they are vocal cues from a distance and the only proof he is even listening is the fact that he adjusts his cast as he hears my input. There is a silence between us but a wonderful understanding of each other’s place in our lives.
I hate to admit it, at this point, he could teach me more about fishing than I could offer him. He’s taken the lessons I’ve shared and added more finesse and understanding of bass than I could even offer. Now we are actually going for trout so I do have some pointers I can share but the instinct and poise in his cast and delivery are still all his and I am in awe every time I watch the fisherman he’s become.
In the end we are all changing and that is not a bad thing. I think the most important thing is to be present, the watch the changes and see how a son becomes a man that can teach his dad at times. It’s this kind of confidence in himself that will be a major support in what ever he chooses to do with his life-some day he will understand as he will teach his son or daughter the wonder and beauty of fishing and perhaps he’ll write about the experience.
Unfortunately and fortunately that wasn’t the trip that happened. Instead of this great cross-country trip we went to Beavers’ Bend State Park in Oklahoma.It’s a wonderful place to visit but not something new to me-not many options for new magnets.
Broken Bow Lake Oklahoma
First positive thing, we spent about a fifth of the money that we have traditionally spent. Second, I didn’t drag an unhappy teen on a trip that I was trying to make happen. Of all the aspects we pride ourselves on these trips is flexibility and this trip was no exception.
Our first night was fishing in the rain, amazing conversation and a bit more hydroplaning than I would have preferred. We didn’t catch anything, maybe a cold.
Had a pretty wonderful yet frugal dinner at Abendigos and did something you sometimes can’t manage with a teen, we talked.
The next day was cloudy but bright. We spend a large portion of the morning sleeping in. Fished a little and than picked up a friend of ours that had just moved there and spent the rest of the day with two teens and again, talked.
There is something beautiful about teens laughing, being silly and yet still talking about life, the good, the bad and the ugly. We hung out in a park, ate sweets, talked, had a wonderful dinner at the blue rooster and finally had an amazing deer run, one of my very fond teen memories with my family. We saw twelve deer and laughed like we were a bunch of juveniles, it was a really fun day.
The next day we fished before leaving the park and I learned more about my son and myself. I have come to a conclusion-we are both growing but it’s a good healthy thing even if I haven’t been on board in the past, it’s working out just fine.
He drove most of the way home and again we learned-the dance you do on the highway with trucks and other cars much like the parent-child relationship. You pick up speed, you get too close, you slow down, and it’s an intricate dance as each of you adjust-not too fast, not too slow, not too close and not too distant.
Unfortunately he has to find his own speed and his own comfort and my job is to allow him the highway and open space to become the man he will be and at this time I’m excited for the road ahead. A bit of freedom, a bit of flexibility and this trip through life I think is going to be worth writing about…. next stop anywhere, stay tuned.
I came out this morning with the expectations of a grey winter day as a contrast to the beautiful sunny day the day before. Instead I was greeted with the telltale signs of winter’s demise; springs’ buds overwhelming a gray landscape.
I could smell the air and how the winter jasmine is giving up its final fragrant boast for attention. Soon the wild flowers will return along with the impatient bees. The birds have already started their chorus and the squirrels are out and about.
The cold steel breezes have given way to a gentle rush of mild spring air.It was a wonderful and welcome surprise, the only problem is that it makes the shadows of indoors that much more profound. I realize why we clean in the spring.
Just days ago I was photographing the winter and basking in the mortal feeling of winter and its white austere countenance. The cold frozen blanket and the dark, gnarled branches of the trees, its almost as if nature has put on its formal coat, dressed for a funeral.
Now we notice the seeds that will find excitement of light and color in the summer. The buds of the plum in the front yard foreshadow the inevitable flowers and fruit inevitable in the spring.
You don’t realize how much you’ve missed spring until you realize how long you’ve been in the greyness of winter. Life is all about contrast, all about change.
Being aware of the differences of the seasons is what makes us mark time and realize we are still breathing.
Finding the light – Photography is all about capturing light
Etymology of the word Photography
The word “photography” was created from the Greek roots φωτός (phōtos), genitive of φῶς (phōs), “light” and γραφή (graphé) “representation by means of lines” or “drawing”,[3] together meaning “drawing with light”. The root of photo means “light” while graphos mean “drawing” Etymology directly from Wikipedia. It has been kind of gray in the Dallas area lately and while I have had the urge to photograph I’ve come up a bit flat. This morning was the first time I noticed the missing ingredient; light.
Unfortunately I wasn’t able to photograph the sunrise and will have to rely on memory and pastel sketches- “A Sunrise I Missed” stay tuned for another blog post after the sketches are done. The amazing thing about this sunrise is the fact that the sunlight painted everything like a divine paintbrush.
The effects of the light make damp snow shine like diamonds, intensifies the color of the sky and turns flat shadows to deep blue hazy contrasts to golden light. It is called the magic hour and it happens just after sunrise and right before sunset when the light is at its perfect angle to the landscape.
The shadow and light play add drama and depth to a flat scene. It turns the snapshot into a work of art. Photoshop enthusiasts and polarizer lovers can stand aside as nature needs no touch ups, no enhancing.
There is no better feeling for me as a photographer knowing where the sun will soon appear and waiting for its spectacle. There is a silence when you have reached the peak of its display, only your breath as you pull the trigger and the wonderful sound of the shutter snapping.
Sometimes you only notice it so profoundly after you haven’t seen it for some time, it is a subtle but powerful process. It is why it’s called photography-it is literally drawing with light and the quality and richness of that light means everything to the photographer.
An Unsigned Portrait - This portrait I will never sign, it was never mine. Even though the colors are
familiar and the strokes are uniquely a piece of me, I have barely laid a brush
on the canvas. In fact, more of my flaws you will see than any of my strengths.
I have stood in awe, as this work became itself. I have not even the slightest
knowledge nor understanding of the medium and yet I welcomed the idea of
creating it, a small piece of the artist is that which is created as just a
whisper, not too much detail and yet enough to clarify the artists vision.
In this particular work, I must admit the painting has taught me more than I
could ever explain. Now as it becomes theirs’, a work that will be shared with
the world, I seem to be more clueless than ever before.
I can’t articulate the purpose or vision; it is so far beyond the comprehension
of a mere artist. The strokes I have taken in recent seem more discordant than
ever, it seems I can only damage the canvas and being an artist and a creative
person seems more like a detriment than a virtue.
I am clumsy, my colors are unsure and even worse than all of this, I am so
irrelevant. And yet the finishing touches beg for my attention. I keep my
distance, I sort of need to these days because the closer I get to perfecting
the masterpiece, the more I realize it has nothing to do with me and it is not
mine. So I won’t be signing this canvas, I wont be taking a bow to the audience
no more than I could stand in judgment of my lack of skill-the painting has
become itself, I have been barely present and yet the lack of myself has meant
everything in its creation.
I won’t sign this work, I will leave it to the audience to decide and they will
finish it. They will never see the beauty I see, nor understand its amazing
virtue-only I can see this and my deep love for it has made me the worst critic.
I can only judge myself in its shadow and I never come up as nothing but a hack
painter, a novice, a word smith without words to describe… so this painting,
this beautiful amazing painting will never be signed.
On the Road-Movie Review : I watched On the Road Today- a story by Jack
On the Road-Movie Review : I watched On the Road Today- a story by Jack
Kerouac, what struck me more than the actual texture of the film was the underlying theme. First off, I realize why critics like movies that can seem boring from the surface, I believe it’s more the texture of the film, the interaction between characters and the interplay of scene and character, this is only a theory.
The beginning of the film deals withthe free spirit of the beatnik generation. You could sense a lack of purpose and the desperate need for it. Drugs, jazz and conversation fill the gaps of boredom as a group of would be writers search for purpose in 1947 New York. Each character yearns for inspiration on the brink of killing themselves or enjoying the absolute rapture of sex, drugs and jazz and not finding fulfillment with either avenue.
I was bored in the first part of the movie, a boredom that after watching the whole movie was actually empathy for characters seeking fulfillment through various reckless avenues and coming up empty. I can relate to the feeling of searching for that which feeds the soul.
My interest grew with the traveling portion, a passion I could truly relate with. I think there is a common bond among writers, an intense need to experience. Desperation for changing atmosphere, to see new places and learn new things about your surroundings and ultimately the self in relation.
To me, there is no greater adventure than the road. It brings solitude and introspection all highlighted by an ever-changing environment. I love how mountains begin as distant phantoms and grow to dwarf the traveler. I love the first smell of the ocean or how a city or small town disappears as the speed limit increases and you realize how much open space separates town and city. I enjoy finding out of the way diners, holes in the wall, people who are passing through or the regular fixtures of a diner or pub.
I love to listen to peoples stories, how their town used to be, how there’s no barbecue like this place left, A barbecue place in Knoxville or an amazing little diner in Bakersfield. You connect the dots, you realize freedom is just a walk outside your house and beyond the walls of your life, this I believe is a writers’ paradise.
Unfortunately for the writer, the truth bites hard, the fact that there must be some form of conformity, due to the innate need for financing the road. Freedom is not free, it is a choice that can cost us everything, and there can be much suffering in not conforming to the standard programmed life. We must balance our freedom and ability not to be tied down by our highly demanding lives, relationships and the cost of being free to roam.
We must be realistic with who we are-we must balance relationships, family and finances. Just like Free Love was a farce the ability to not be tied down by anything has its drawbacks. The characters in On the Road experience the pain of wanting to be free and how we hurt those we included in our lives, Nothing is perfect, from the corporate man that keeps one job to the traveler who ties themselves to nowhere-there are drawbacks and costs to each.
In the end, you see the selfishness that costs one writer everything and the wisdom of the other character conforming to some of societies contracts.I believe there is a possibility of compromise between the two lives.
I have seen people that live outside the corporate and programmed life, there is a feeling of elation in the succeeding on your own terms but there are also the life pangs which I consider necessary to feel alive.
There is nothing more amazing than the difference between having to rely on meager sustenance, the ramen noodle diet and splurging for an amazing meal, Just as warmth is never such a blessing than from someone who has felt the cold deep in ones bones. I believe the extremes are the only way we can truly enjoy the full breadth of our lives. So for those that get out on the road, figuratively or literally, enjoy the pangs, they will give way to rapture in the elation of succeeding on our own terms.
Experimental photography – I am in a holding pattern at the moment. It’s like having something on the tip of your tongue, something that is just outside your memory, a word you have problems remembering. I am having a creative slump but at the same time I can almost envision the next paintings and the new writing.
I have been looking at older paintings and there is a sense of detail that I think I have relaxed a bit on in recent paintings. I am excited about creating water with the feeling that you can touch the bottom.
There are many paintings that are floating around the studio, each in different stages of completion-I sit in front of them and nothing. You just can’t force it when there is nothing there, no images, no feelings and yet the impetus is strong.
So today on a snowy day in February I photographed. I tried to see things that weren’t obvious.
I experimented with the winter Jasmine in the front yard in a way that I could captured its essence, I experimented with several Fstops for varying depth of field. So I can’t say I’m completely satisfied but the inspiration and the creativity is getting closer, it’s just a matter of time until I start painting and writing furiously.
I even messed with some old oranges, I liked the rich colors of the oranges with the cold winter background. The fact that they didn’t quite fit in the winter landscape is what I thought was interesting.
Next, I shot inside and adjusted the images until they were almost artwork instead of photos. From the teens addiction to the cell phone to the study of a red couch in the snow, I was just trying to be open to anything that presented itself.
I am excited about shooting much more in the near future and hope to have many photographs of our upcoming trip. Stay tuned.
Artbygordon: Original oils on canvas, Original pastels on paper celebrating the beauty and mystery of nature. Water and night skies are my specialties.
