Rainy night in West Dundee acrylic painting

Rainy night in West Dundee acrylic painting, originally uploaded by Tigrikorn.

I just got back from an open studio art class. It's been so much fun to be in a room with 6 other artists, listening to music, sharing snacks, creating art and talking all about books, movies, music and artists. Everybody is having a great time and euphoria abounds. Everyone looks at the projects each of us are working on and gives encouraging praise and critiques.

Last week I was struggling with a painting I wanted to scrap. I was trying to do a precise downtown, rainy day scene with buildings and cars and people with umbrellas, but I just wasn't feeling it. I told our teacher, Alayne that I was not feeling it. "I'll just paint over it and do something else," I conceded.
"Well, since you want to paint over it, why don't you just try to paint your scene without caring if it's perfect. Just have fun. Be loose. Use colors you wouldn't think of normally. See what happens."

I took her advice and didn't worry about making it realistic. I let myself be inspired by Van Gogh and Picasso. I mixed fun colors on the buildings and sky, made quick expressive brush strokes for windows. And made swirly light effects.

I was in the free expression zone where I didn't allow myself to over think. Everyone in the class loved what I did. And, most importantly, I loved how the painting ended up. To me, that is the essence of success.

Blossoms

Sock Kitty Outdoor Adventure, originally uploaded by Tigrikorn.

I'm fortunate to work at a place that has an inner courtyard with blossoming crab apple trees as well as a variety of shrubs, ground cover and flowering plants. Last week the two trees' blossoms were in inundated and heavily laden with white petals. In the small space of the court yard their soft colors and fragrance enveloped me as I cut through on the walkway to the door to the wing of the building that housed my office.

This morning as I made my customary route, I noticed the blossoms had mostly fallen off over the weekend. But since the courtyard does not allow strong winds to blow the petals away, there was an almost snow-like coating on the walk way. I kneeled down to scoop up a small handfull of petals. Like little flakes, the were so tiny, soft and delicate. I could just barely feel them in my hand. They had no weight at all! I closed my fingers over my palm and brought them to my office where I found a crimson colored 6"x4" index card and laid them out on it. Oddly enough, the voice of Julie Andrews as Mary Poppins intoned in my mind, "A thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever!".

Personal Style

style drawing, originally uploaded by Tigrikorn.

The drawing above is of someone I saw at the library and I liked their style


The drawing above is from a clothing ad that I saw in 1987

I was a fish out of water during the 70s. Blow-dried, long flippy hair was in vogue but I liked mine short. The 80s suited me best, I thought at the time. Short hair on the back and sides with long forelock action going on. And I loved the skinny ties and the retro look --the most recent incarnation of which is the "Mad Men" style popularized by the 60s era setting of a popular TV show about ad execs.

But I also like creativity and cross-purposing (not cross-dressing, pay attention) of style accents. I have fond memories of using a Boy Scout neck kerchief clasp as a belt buckle. And then there was a time, during my college years, when I commandeered a large black trashbag and made it into an emergency rain poncho with matching cap. Although, I've not been so extreme for a while, I still like to flip down the front of certain basic knit caps leaving the sides up thus creating a slight bill-like flourish.

As I've gotten older, I'm more interested in the quality of material of my clothes. And the fit. My hair is gone and my face has a lot more wrinkles but I am determined to stay trim and dress with some dignity. Upon having to acquire prescription glasses for the first time in my life, I chose frames that are on the trendy-ish side, being thick rimmed and black. They are like iconic, geek-style glasses that I've adopted as part of my style. I don't know how long I'll keep that going. But for now it suits me fine.

College Days Memories

Shryock auditorium, SIU Carbondale IL, 1982, Drawing of Shryock Auditorium and fountain at SIU circa 1982, originally uploaded by Tigrikorn.

Awkward College Class Moment

I hurried to my College Freshman English Composition class by taking a shortcut through Thompson Woods from the Phys Ed building. My hair was still wet from my quick shower after the morning's Gen. Ed. Swim class.

Thanks to my shortcut, I arrived along with some other near stragglers and I took a seat at the back of the classroom. My desk was one of the typical 70s era, plastic and chrome wrap-around slab writing surface jobbers that filled the room. To my right, also along the wall, I noticed another student whose face I remembered from previous classes. Blond, and a bit taller than me, he had a Chicagoan accent. More than half of the students at my school were from Chicago. So that was not unusual. I couldn't remember his name but I never saw him outside of this class so I didn't care.

Our English Comp prof was a 30-something, tall, trim bespectacled man who made me think of Ernest Hemingway. Gruff, with a bushy mustache and no-nonsense style, he could sometimes say things that made the class laugh. Which we were doing when I noticed the blond Chicagoan looking at me. He was mouthing some question that I couldn't decipher. I assumed he was saying something like, "Isn't that prof a riot?" or something like that in context. I just nodded and smiled. Which made him smile all the more.

This happened again while the class was laughing at something I can't remember. Chicago guy said something I couldn't hear and I just nodded and smiled. I thought, "Wow, this guy never has talked to me before and now he's trying to make conversation." I actually was thinking it was a nice friendly gesture and made a note to myself to talk to him after class.

Afterwards, I approached him as I was pulling my backpack strap over my shoulder. He was still smiling at me and I smiled back.
"So is it true?" He said
"Is what true?" --me still smiling but now quizzical
"You're stoned?"
Now my smile is faded, "What? No! Why do you say that?"
"You just had that look....I mean... your eyes are red and you have that goofy grin."
At this point, I had to laugh nervously. "No, man! I just got out of swim class and my eyes are allergic to chlorine!"
"Oh....Are you sure?"
"I'm not stoned." I said heading for the door, not wanting to be late for my next class.

So much for friendly gestures.

Open Door

365 Tigrikorn Day 108: Photo Retouching, originally uploaded by Tigrikorn.

Is it ever all the way, flat out, wide open? Most of the time it's open only a sliver. And there could be light and sound that coaxes you in. Or it could be that through the opening you can only see pitch black and deathly stillness. But even that beckons with possibility and piques your curiosity.

As you peer through tentatively, what is it that holds you back? Now that you've found the door, can you stay on this side of it? Maybe your hesitation comes from knowing that once you go through it, there is no coming back. But that's okay. There will be other doors.

First Tigrikorn Comic of 2013

First Tigrikorn Comic of 2013, originally uploaded by Tigrikorn.

It's about the nature of power and who has it.

The Strategy For Bidden Love

Moleskine sketch 06.08.09, originally uploaded by Tigrikorn.

The love that woos and solicits --THAT kind of love holds a fascination for me. That act or predisposition to attract another could be as innocent as altruistic warmth and friendliness or as calculating as a fisherman casting a lure, i.e. seduction. In both instances not only is the law of attraction at play but also the will to attract.

One person can be attracted to another but if the other is unaware (assuming that person is not overtly repulsed at the sight of the admirer), then the bid for love serves as a way to bridge the gap. The logistics of that initial bridge building is full of instinct-driven cues that have developed in our social species over mellinnia. But every age has its own technological spin on the supportive methods for that courtship.

Doesn't it just come down to a strategy for insinuating oneself positively (or sometimes not) into the consciousness of another?