Exploring Jackson Pollock's 'Number 50': A Journey into Drip Painting and Abstract Expressionism

Let's talk about Jackson Pollock's 'Number 50'. Dive into the world of action painting, a subset of Abstract Expressionism, developed mid-century by Pollock, where he set out to explore a blend of chance and precision in abstract art.

🎨🖌️ Dive into the dynamic world of Jackson Pollock’s ‘Number 50’, a 1950 masterpiece of drip painting. This piece is not just paint on canvas; it’s an iconic example of action art and abstract expressionism. 💫🌌

Pollock’s method? Using house paint and a stick to let each drip and swirl take its own course, creating a symphony of controlled chaos. But how much control did Pollock really have? 🤔🎨 Each splatter and line raises questions about artistic intent versus randomness.

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Reflect on the nature of art itself: the choice of colors, the angle of the drip, and the artist’s movement around the canvas. It’s a dance of chance and precision. 🕺💃

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Ever written about art and received unexpected feedback? Share your experiences and thoughts on this captivating form of expression. Let’s delve into the depths of drip painting together! 🤓✍️

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On Writer's Block — A Journal & Rant

In this book, Journal of a Novel, 

Steinbeck talks about how he overcame writer's 

block to write his epic novel East of Eden.

John Steinbeck famously stalled starting East of Eden by carving a wooden pencil box for his personally carved pencils. He couldn't begin writing a great novel without having both decent pencils and a handsome box to his crafted artist tools.
     I am not that bad, but I think every writer worth his salt battles with writer's block.
     The problem is not WHAT to write but HOW to write what you want to write. The writer is not usually void of ideas, but once settled on one idea, there comes the conundrum of infinite ways to approach the topic. What's the title? Do I write in the first person? Who is my audience - middle age blue-bloods, or pimply adolescents? Do I use accents or write in plain English prose?

Then, there is the security factor. Do I think the piece is gonna be good or not? Will people read this?
     Then, when the work has started, and your pen is moving at a well-clipped pace, eventually, at some point, there comes a stall. The great lull, I call it. Or just boredom. I think this is why most Master theses and Doctoral dissertations go unfinished.
     "It seemed like a good idea," the grad student laments. What's left: piles of research, jotted notes, emails to directors, and an unfinished manuscript.

Connecting thought to idea to word
to sentence to a paragraph . . . can be daunting.

Sometimes, it is the ending that gets ya. 
     Virginia Woolf famously dreaded ending her novels because it felt like a death. I can relate to the visceral, human connection to a work in progress. The writer feeds his work, his blood, tears, ambition, and time. Ink. Pencil graphite. To finish the opus seems too much like divorce - or even worse, death.
     Woolf finished Between the Acts and sometime later stepped into the stream behind her house, heavy stones sewn into the lining of her blouse.
     Now, I don't think I am that bad. But, I can relate to Woolf's decision. Perhaps she was tired of dying. She had written through many deaths.

I can relate to John Steinbeck, better. 
     It wasn't that he felt like he couldn't create an epic American Genesis, but the task was so monumental maybe he thought he would get bored or give up. Woolf killed herself, by contrast, not because she completed a great piece of work but just because it was completed.
     Once the publisher tidies up the manuscript, the text is no longer yours. Once I press submit, it is as if the narrative births itself and leaves the cage of the author.
     One way I helped alleviate writer's block was to start actively contributing to my blog. Writing a blog entry is a way to floss my writer's teeth. To write and publish automatically is a way to remind myself I can create something that is not monumental but, at the same time, hopefully not trite. I try to aim for funny, pertinent - or just plain good, dammit.

When I am really feeling it, I go to Twitter and microblog. 
     Wow. What a catharsis. I am energized that Roger Ebert feels the same way. He recently wrote a blog piece on why he tweets. I think he writes his blog and tweets a helluva lot because it lubricates his gears so he can step up to the plate for the big stuff.
     Now, you may say, all this is the same thing as carving that wondrous wooden box to put your pencils because you don't want to get into the nitty-gritty of writing. There's a blog post about this, by the way.

But, I instead write something every day rather than nothing.
     So, here's my something.
     Maybe, you can relate? Lemme know, dammit. Why do you write? When do you not write?

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Alighiero Boetti On Reality

First of all I prefer thought. This is the basic thing. I really think manual skill is secondary …. It’s taking things from reality. Everything, however small and humble, always has a beginning and stems from reality. 

Alighiero e Boetti

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On Thinking About Creativity: Are We Artists Or Not?

Creators come in different
shapes, colors, and sizes!

If you think you may be a writer, an illustrator, a photographer, a graphic designer, a sculptor, a songwriter, or a dancer, a filmmaker, a novelist, a poet, a dreamer, a baker, whatever, know a few things. Your art will fail you. The words will not come. The images will not appear. The lens will not capture a perfect reality. The story will not form. The movement will falter. The notes will not pluck. The cake will collapse.

Movie Review: "Desert of Forbidden Art" (2010)

At Cinema Village in Manhattan, 
Desert of Forbidden Art (2010) 
is screening: 
      The documentary, filmed on location in Karapalpakistan (in Uzbekistan) a formerly held area of the Soviet Union, unveils the mystery behind why in Nukus, an otherwise barren town in the desert, is home to thousands of pieces of Soviet Avant-Garde art. 
The answer lies in the life of artist Igor Savitsky. 
      Igor Savitsky was born from aristocratic Bolshevik roots; he became a worker to convince the new Soviet government that he had shed his aristocratic past. Desirous of the artist's life, he got a job drawing desert landscapes. He tried to become an artist but failed. Dispirited he moved to the desert city of Nukus. Unable to make it as an artist, Savitsky conjures up an idea to start a museum in the desert of Karapalpakistan to save revolutionary art from the censoring eyes of Soviet control. Artists who escape the gulag, or who come out of the gulag scarred, sought refuge in the desert to continue their work in secret. 
Savitsky Created a Secret Museum of Art in the Desert
      Savitsky is the collector who saves their pieces in his museum. Using state money, fooling officials about the content of the art, Savitsky was able to save pieces of art that spoke of the torture of the gulags and a pointing finger at the state-approved art that depicted the Soviet regime as growing and prosperous. The film is visually stunning. The filmmakers carefully construct the story about one man's fight against fascism but the film is also a document of the works themselves. The best part was the art itself, stunningly recaptured on film, the colors used by the artists is far from daubery. When I saw the film last weekend the film makes were there to speak about the movie. They spoke about the remote village of Nukus. It seems Uzbekistan does not care about the preservation of its Avant-Garde art. 
The Future of the Museum's Avant-Garde Art Collection
      The museum does not want to sell its collection, nor does the state government seem interested in persevering the art. In fact, as of this writing, the pieces are not displayed and seem to be destined for the trash heap if people do not stand up against the annihilation of art that Stavistky fought so hard to prevent. The documentary is timely because it speaks about a past censorship but seems to also be a call to action that art matters. 

Check out the trailer:
Desert of Forbidden Art

Directors: 

Tchavdar Georgiev, Amanda Pope

Writers: 

Amanda Pope, Tchavdar Georgiev

Stars:

 Edward Asner, Sally Field, and Ben Kingsley

More info from imdb.com

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Art Review: Hitler McDonald

Learn about Noah Lyon, an artist in New York City who does mashups of Ronald McDonald-cum-Adolf Hitler.

Noah Lyon, an artist in New York City, has showcased at the New York Art Book Expo his poster image of an amalgam between Hitler and Ronald McDonald. Strangely, the combination seems appropriate, don't you think?

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Writing From a Laptop in North Beach, San Francisco, CA at Café Trieste

Writing this blog post from Café Trieste in North Beach, San Francisco, CA (But I mainly focus on my trip to Oregon, to see Ruy and friends, and that time I went to the Water Lily Festival).
I am posting this blog from lovely San Francisco, CA but the pics are from various and sundry places I have visited thus far so enjoy the unorganized panoply of prose and pics!
My friend Suzanne and Shawndeya know how to string a harp like the angel's on high. The chords made even the sea nymphs and forest fairies come out and sing.
At the Crystal Falls, Sarah told me in her best French, "laissez les bon temps roulez"! She did not want me to tell you guys that she has been trying to act cajun even though she is from the mid west.
This is common wood sorrel that Kevin and I tasted and concluded that its acidic taste is delectable but soon afterward can cause serious stomach churning.
Ahh, here is Ruy, Sarah, and Kevin relaxing at the Falls. AHHHHH. Isn't life sweet?

In San Francisco, early in the morning, the Golden Gate Bridge is veiled in a layer of fog and smog the color of cappuccino.


I drove through Humboldt County's version of the Redwood Forest. I cannot compare it to the actual Redwood National Park, but I was impressed. Man, those trees are ginormous.
This picture was taken on Mount Shasta in California. As I was ascending the mountain in my Toyota Echo I must have seen thousands of these creatures swarming, hitting against my windshield. I felt bad but there were so many of them it was like a love bug cloud you would find in the south but these guys are much more beautiful. By the way, Mount Shasta is gorgeous; some say it has a numinous quality about it that has led to conjectures about its mystical nature. I saw these hikers on the side of the road. They had hiked to the peak of the mountain which is about 12,000 or 13,000 feet up and they needed a ride to their car so I did my numinous duty and drove them back and they then, in turn, gifted me with twenty bucks.
I needed a break so I took off all my clothes and swam in the river. Do you believe that? Hey?! No one was looking but it sure did give new meaning to the phrase, "colder than a witch's tit"!
This young lady introduced me to the art of writing poetry on the back of a bamboo shedding. We went to the Water Lily Festival in Wilsonville, Oregon. It was da bomb.

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