I just completed three paintings for an upcoming small group show. Sweet Science Boxing Gym is hosting a sparring/art event on Nov. 7th and will be featuring several artists who have created “boxing-themed art”. Clever idea. Here’s one of the pieces I’ll be showing. The Flow. Acrylics on paper.
Sometimes I sleep on the Eastbank Esplanade path. It’s true, when the sun is shining and a breeze is blowing on a perfect Portland July afternoon, I’ll walk out of my office and lay down on the concrete at the entrance to the popular river walk – yes, the smooth white concrete near Coopers Café at the corner of Clay St .and Water Ave. The warmth of the sun is matched by the warmth emanating from the paved pathway and that combination lulls me to sleep in minutes. With the width of the Esplanade entrance, I’m not in anyone’s way there. I lay flat; eyes closed and let the whizzing by of bicycles, workers gossiping and the chatter of the café patrons at the outdoor tables calm my mind.
This habit of mine started two summers ago after the birth of my first child, Ryder. Although he was a good sleeper by baby standards, the inevitable “up all night” happened pretty frequently. I’d roll into my office bleary eyed, a cup of steaming Stumptown in my travel mug and slog through the morning until lunch. One day, I strolled out into the glaring sun, stopped at the Esplanade, lying down from where I just stood, and closed my eyes thinking, “I’ll just rest here for a moment.” I fell asleep – a deep, truly restful sleep that invigorated me for more afternoon copywriting and creative directing. That’s when it became a regular part of my summer and fall days. Now, with the birth of our second child, and the cycle of sleepless nights continuing, this lunchtime ritual seems natural.
I often wonder if people whisper about me as they walk past or wonder why I’ve chosen the pavement of such a busy corridor as my place for slumber. But then I remember that this is Portland. I’m just another cog in the wheel of original scenes that play out on any sunny afternoon of a Portland summer. From tall bikes riding past to the regular morning crowd of swimmers who cross the Willamette River from the west side to the east, I’m just another detail in the woven cloth of what you’ll find in this city.
That’s a wrap. I wrote script and directed design and animation for new cloud product video.
Just wrapped up this boxing-themed video for ProContractor by Viewpoint (Compete with the Heavyweights) campaign. Wrote the script and handled creative director duties to see this through to the end. Definitely different in the construction software space. Check it out.
Our Portland Story is a community story project featuring selected local writers and designers. The latest volume took nearly 3 years to complete but I’m proud to have been selected as part of this great project. My writing was paired up with a local designer’s interpretation of the story and despite the somewhat frightening illustration of my face, I think the essence of the story was captured beautifully. Books are available in Portland area bookstores and online.
Click on image at left to read the story.
I just finished reading William Todd Schultz’s Torment Saint, the poignant, sad, troubled biography of Elliott Smith. To borrow a well-worn title from another less tragic contemporary (David Eggers), Smith’s music and legacy is truly the Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Of course the tales of depression, drug abuse, and sad lyrics are nothing new to anyone familiar with the myth of Elliott Smith, but as I turned each page of the book, I realized that Smith is someone I would have liked – even with his insufferable self-loathing. Clearly this was another case of an artist who enjoyed making art for art’s sake and when that art was co-opted for mass consumption and all the pitfalls that accompany corporate success, it was simply too heavy to handle – insert Kurt Cobain here.
Support local NW surfboard shapers on October 3rd. Boards, beers, art and music. Great event.
I was in Nashville, TN this week and had an opportunity to check out world famous Hatch Show Print. I stared in awe at all the classic posters on the walls dating back to the late 1800′s. The art of letter press is still alive and well there with classic Nashville show posters for Johnny Cash, Ernest Tubbs and Patsy Cline hung next to some of today’s most influential indie artists. Large metal plates containing all the fonts, letters and numbers were stacked high on the shelves around the space and the smell of fresh ink was in the air. It was a glorious assault on the senses.
No matter how far we push technology into the world of design, nothing compares to the art of handmade prints cranked out from the large, creaky bowels of a steel press. Long live Hatch.
So I took a spin in this sweet 1970 Mustang Mach 1 with a smallblock 351 today at lunch. I’m still drooling on my shirt.
I’ve been feeling old lately. This is really the first time I’ve felt that way since most people tell me I look way younger than my actual birthdays. Looks aside (yes, the gray hairs are there and my mug is a bit more lined than when I was 30), I’m feeling older because I’m getting grumpier. And more sore every morning. And complacent. Oh man, that complacency thing is a real kick in the shorts. I’m an active guy, someone who grows restless just by sitting still for a few hours. If the phone isn’t ringing by 8 am on a Saturday morning to go do the countless things that satisfy my soul – rock climbing, mountain biking, snowboarding, skateboarding, surfing – I’m an anxious mess. Or at least that’s how I used to be. Now, I look forward to sleeping in, going out to breakfast or mowing the lawn. Seriously, what the…