Jan 31, 2010

Ideation


Found this sketchbook page from when I was working on the Tree, thought I'd throw it up here. I like a lot of these little drawings on the side, some of them could be the start of something else (that crazy-looking Berlin bear especially!). Floris recently sent me a video of an interview he had during Fashion Week™ with Sleek Magazine, shot in the very shop where the work is posted on the wall. Wickid!

Interconnectivity Ahoy!

Just set up a Facebook Page for my art, Czech it out!

This will mark a glorious new era of productivity and art-minded thinking. An era where perseverance and zeal will fall like a Gilded Rain upon the rich soil of Creativity, nourishing the fevered germination of new and bizarre forms, gnarled and strong, deeply rooted in the porous bedrock of Semi-Plausability, straining with all their raw and terrible might toward the broiling heavens.

Even in the lowlands of Sloth, where the earth is a cold barren gray and Hope's flame chokes and sputters in the coiling fog of Doubt, there will the oily-thick Rain be made to gather, to pool. The puddles will continue to swell, rivulets stretching like fingers of dull gold over the tortured earth. The tiny flame will jump and flare, strangely emboldened by the tempest. The once-lifeless basin will be slowly changed, smothered by the downpour and enriched by it, pools of all sizes expanding and joining and weaving their forked tendrils among the ashen rocks, until a larger pool bursts its banks and engulfs the only source of light.

For a terrible flickering second, all will be extinguished...


...and then from the sudden smoke, a great spark! Hope is tempered anew, fed and propelled by the Gilded pools, racing in a bright and roaring ring from its birthplace! Gold and red-orange, blue-violet and beautiful, the hungry flames dance and surge over the lowlands!

Even here, in this once-forsaken and lifeless expanse, the very ground stirs... Ideas and Techniques that have long lain dormant writhe in their membranous cocoons, tearing their nests asunder, ravenously seeking the warmth and nourishment that has been but a hazy memory for eons. The landscape is alight with this strange and magnificent fire, fed by the Gilded Rain which shows no signs of abating. The air is thickened with strange pollens from near and distant lands, shaken by the low rumble of flames and the fervent cries of the Wild Unknown.


...Woah. That's all I got in me for now, I'm goin' to bed.