I remember this being a series of quick sketches from photos projected on a screen in my 1988 art class. Each sketch had a two minute time limit or something like that, and we were told a particular style to try to use ahead of time.
[daily log: walking, 3.5km]
Month: July 2020
Caveat: Poem #1450 “Chlorophyllic disappointment”
ㅁ The leaves were saddened. The sun was taking a break. They hung drooping, dark.
– a pseudo haiku.
Caveat: Rearranging the deck
… rather than “rearranging the deck chairs…” (“… on the Titanic,” to complete the aphorism).
Which is to say, I was working on the treehouse project. I’ve got a sort of temporary deck on the west portion, now – just some 2-by’s (2×4, 2×6, 2×8) laid across the four beams that stretch from tree to tree. I then stood on this deck, feeling a bit precarious, while I hung the cable on the west tree and attached it to the two corners of the western support.
It would be easier to explain with a picture, I suppose. But no.
Another drizzly day. And I tired myself out, going up and down the ladder, pushing boards around.
[daily log: walking, 2.5km]
Caveat: Art #84
This abstraction feels like I did it around 2006. I’m not sure though. It might be earlier or later. There were several periods when I messed with watercolors.
Caveat: Poem #1449 “The sea’s meaning”
ㅁ The round rolling sea. The sparkling silvery sea. The boat-bearing sea.
– a pseudo haiku.
Caveat: Fishing Report #(n+5)
Art and I went out in the boat today. Joe went fishing too – but not on our boat, rather, on some other friend’s boat. No report yet as to how he made out.
The weather was predicting drizzle and light wind. That’s about accurate, the only piece that was maybe off was that the swells on the southwestern exposures were broad and maybe 3-4 feet. It drizzled or rained the whole time.
We got launched without problem by 7:45, but then realized about a mile west of home that Arthur had forgotten his cellphone and fishing license. Since I don’t have a phone I felt more strongly that Arthur should have his, and of course, the fishing license is a good idea. So we turned around, re-docked (I think it was a good docking, smooth and gentle), and Arthur went into the house to get those things.
We re-launched at 8:05 and cruised through the misty rain out to Siketi Bay. We trolled along the south shore of Lulu Island, hooked one Coho salmon that got away, and then landed another moderately-sized one. We turned around and trolled through Paloma Passage back into the Marina Real channel. We saw a salmon jumping in the water, but no more catches. We went back east to the north end of San Ignacio Island. There were lots of commercial boats there, and we trolled down the east side of the island. We got to the southeast corner and the large swells from the south were making me nervous, so Arthur and I agreed to not proceed along the south side of the island. We turned around and trolled back northward. No more luck catching, though right at the end, back at the northeast corner, Arthur landed a tiny Coho, which we returned to the sea “to grow up some more.” We pulled our downriggers out at around 1:45 and came back home. It was very drizzly and misty, that meant calm winds so the docking was again very smooth.
I was tired when we got home, but I had dried another batch of salmonberries, and found some fresh blueberries down between the kitchen and the sea, and so I ambitiously made another berry cobbler. It came out much nicer than my first effort; I think drying out the berries helped a lot in reducing the liquid content.
Then after dinner when Art and I were watching TV, the power went out. So this is posted a bit late.
Year-to-date totals:
- Coho: 2
- Halibut: 1
- Lingcod: 1
[daily log: walking, 1km; boating, 35km]
Caveat: Art #83
These bowls were drawn in pastels in about 1993, along with those cups, previously posted.
Caveat: Poem #1448 “Birds exchange views”
ㅁ An eagle just watched from the far end of the dock a raven on rocks.
– a pseudo haiku.
Caveat: The Continued Bootstrap Operation
Which is to say, I put in some hours on my treehouse project, today. Each step takes a long time, working alone. Today I worked on setting a kind of temporary deck on joists of the treehouse floor, where I can stand while I take the next steps in attaching the cables to the corners of the platform. It feels very precarious up there, as there are currently only two solid anchors – one large lag bolt at each tree. I needed to hoist a 4’x8’x3/4″ piece of plywood up there, to lay across the joists as a temporary deck. But it was very heavy – too heavy to just lift over my head and shove up there. So I had to engineer a “ramp” using a 16′ long beam leaned up against the “shallow end” of the treehouse, and then shove the plywood in increments up the ramp. It was all very tiring. But I’m making slow progress, still.
Caveat: Art #82
I made this ink sketch in around 2011 I think. A quixotic fight against an alligator, per my teaching methods of the period.
Caveat: Poem #1447 “Lost”
ㅁ Adrift in seas of melancholy Witness to birds that perch in trees Scattered like dandelions Gray just like the damp skies Renderer of lines Painted but dull Wordless soul Person Lost
– a nonnet.
Caveat: My Mold Garden
This summer seems much grayer and wetter than last summer, as I remember it.
My greenhouse struggles with long series of overcast days and drizzly weather. My vegetation is overtaken with mold or mildew or somesuch fungus. The leaves wither.
Some plants are still okay: tomatoes seem reasonably healthy, the beet greens are untouched, the new lettuce is bright. But my bean plants wilt in the wet, the squash and cucumber flowers have been attacked, the spinach is laconic.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Art #81
I think I did this abstract thingy in around 2009. I can’t remember.
Caveat: Poem #1446 “How poetry works”
ㅁ No. Poems which linger in the mind's eye do not represent anything except words. They spill out like spilled gravel, like insects lost in the damp air, and in the end they fade like old logs.
– a reverse nonnet.
Caveat: Minimalistic Blog Post
This is a minimalistic blog post.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Art #80
I drew this sketch while in high school, I’m pretty sure. Maybe 1982.
Caveat: Poem #1445 “Maybe I’m a boat”
ㅁ Lately I'm unmoored Dreams tumble and thoughts clamor And all is quite damp.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Art #79
Yet another shoe, drawn in pencil in around 1992. Shoes are hard to draw.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km]
Caveat: Poem #1444 “No solution was forthcoming”
ㅁ I raged while dreaming, demanding some solution to cloudy problems.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: I had some berries…
… so I wanted to make something.
I attempted a berry cobbler, using salmonberries and blueberries.
It tastes delicious. But it didn’t thicken at all. It’s a berry soup. But considering it’s the first cobbler I’ve made in about 25 years, I guess just being edible is an accomplishment.
I’d offer a picture, but… you know.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: Art #78
This abstraction was created using techniques I learned while working at the University of Minnesota’s Library Book Bindery in 1988. It is how custom end-papers are produced for custom-made books. I made several blank books while working there, using hand-stitching and custom papers.
Caveat: Poem #1443 “Fishing and catching”
ㅁ An airplane flew past. The sea sparkled blue and gray. A fish ate our hook.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Fishing Report #(n+4)
We went out fishing today.
We left early – before 8. That was easier without the dead battery we had last time. It was only Arthur and I, since Joe or friend didn’t come along. It was raining as we left but cleared out nicely during the day. The forecast for “light wind” seems to mean about 10-knot winds, but it was fine.
We went to the fuel dock to get fuel and ended up spending a long time there, because Arthur couldn’t get his credit card to work. He called his bank on his cellphone and found out he hadn’t paid his bill. He was definitely disturbed by this news, as it was a real-world bit of confirmation that his attentional issues are “real.” Fortunately I’d brought along my card, too, so we used that. We left the fuel dock around 9. But it put him in a grumpy mood.
We went out through the north entrance to Craig harbor (north of Fish Egg Island) and then southwestward to the northern tip of San Ignacio. We trolled southward on the east shore of that island. There were a lot of commercial boats clustered in the area, trolling up and down. I saw at least one of the commercial boats pulling in a fairly steady supply of smallish salmon – so we took that as a good sign.
We didn’t hook a salmon until we reached the southwestern corner of San Ignacio, at Coco Point. The swells were pretty sloppy there, but we trolled back and forth twice hoping for another. No luck. Anyway, as Arthur put it, “at least we’re not skunked.”
“Not even for the season,” I agreed. It was, after all, our first salmon of the season.
We trolled up the western side of San Ignacio, where it gets quite shallow. I’m not sure that was a productive use of our time. But we made a full circumnavigation of the island, which I don’t think I’d ever done before in a single outing.
We finally pulled up the downriggers at the island’s northeast corner, and headed home. We arrived home at around 2:20. I didn’t dock the boat very well this time. I used the “crash the boat into the dock” method, which is a bit humiliating. No damage, though.
Arthur cut up the fish and cussed a lot because he wasn’t happy with the quality of the job he was doing. He fired up the traeger woodsmoke grill and I had a brainstorm to try to make a salmonberry glaze for the salmon, since there are fresh salmonberries abounding in our driveway right now.
I adapted a recipe for raspberry glaze that I found online, using salmonberries instead, with honey, garlic and balsamic vinegar. I thought it was pretty good, but I think Arthur didn’t like it, mostly because he didn’t like all the little salmonberry seeds.
No pictures, because no smartphone.
[daily log: walking, 2km; boating, 30km]
Caveat: Art #77
In 2015, I drew this portrait of the Arbarongan Chief Quichago (a rebel during the early colonial period in the imaginary country of Ardesfera).
Caveat: Poem #1442 “Inside the greenhouse”
ㅁ The potato plant grew until it was very tall, Sometimes in sunlight.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Quechua Trap
“Trap” is a sub-genre of hiphop music. This woman in Peru is making Quechua language trap music.
[daily log: walking, 2.5km]
Caveat: Art #76
I drew my shoe in 1992.
Caveat: Poem #1441 “Always a bit awkward”
ㅁ I lay there dreaming... and dreamed I was unconscious, but then I woke up.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #… nevermind
Since my phone broke (which was serving as my camera) I shall not be taking pictures of trees. I have some trees in my archive of photos taken in past years, but I think instead I’ll send this feature on a little hiatus.
[daily log: walking, 3km]
Caveat: Art #75
I adapted this 1995 pastel from a photograph I took at Luffenholtz Beach (Trinidad, California) in 1984.
Caveat: Poem #1440 “Cruel fate”
ㅁ My phone and I walked... Only later did I see it had been broken.
– a pseudo-haiku.
Caveat: Tree #554
This is the very last picture taken with my phone before it broke. This small alder, about 4 inches tall, appeared in the new driveway – it’s not one of the ones I planted there.
I’m not sure what’s going to happen to this daily tree series, since my phone was also my camera. Perhaps a hiatus is called for?
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: being taken in a lower-tech direction by the forces of nature
I stepped in a hole.
My phone broke.
I wasn’t hurt.
There might be fewer photographs for a while, since my phone was also my camera.