Things I Don’t See Everyday

Drove to Publix this morning in moderately heavy traffic and saw a tractor trailer weaving like a snake from lane to lane. It swung left, hesitated, then returned to the right-hand lane. Cars warily slowed down and allowed space for what appeared to be a drunk driver piloting a large mass of motorized metal. Then, the truck shifted once more and came to an abrupt halt. The driver slowly jackknifed the giant truck into a shopping plaza entrance. He blocked traffic in two directions while maneuvering beneath a red light. Nobody honked a horn.

Headed south on Semoran (a major six-lane route in Orlando) to an appointment after lunch. A white van ahead of me displayed signs on its back window and door. One sign read, “Pray for Israel against Jesuit wars.” Another asserted that masks could not protect one against anything (viruses, germs, violence, etc.), and declared that vaccines are Satanic devices. A third sign assured me that the Bible was the only source of comfort and joy. I decided to stay well behind hoping that distance would assure safety if not comfort, peace, and joy.

But I was left wondering what the owner meant by “Jesuit wars”. Didn’t the Counter Reformation end about 400 years ago? What danger does a Catholic order, now dedicated to teaching, currently pose to the state of Israel? Inquiring minds want to know.

When I returned home after the appointment (a successful treatment by my osteopath), I avoided a back street that had been mostly blocked this morning by service trucks and workers. (They’ve been digging up stretches of yards along the way for the last month to replace storm sewer pipes.) But my chosen route came with a surprise: someone had abandoned a car where the main entrance road to my neighborhood meets Aloma Avenue. A tow truck was parked parallel to the car. No room remained to allow a left turn into the development. No one was present attempting to clear the obstruction, so the intersection looked like an impromptu parking lot. I had to drive farther east, make a U-turn, and slip by the blockage.

I pulled up into our driveway and saw Judy sitting in a chair on the front porch. She smiled and said, “Hi. How did the appointment go?” She looked happy to see me and concerned about my welfare. I silently thanked God for someone I see every day.

Space Aliens and Ghost Elephants

I started these drawings by applying irregular patterns of color to rough-textured paper, erasing lighter areas that caught my eye, and adding additional tones and colors. I didn’t have anything in mind but soon saw figures, plants, animals, rocks, bricks emerging out of the confusion.

sketchbook page

Alien Invasion: Crisis at the Border

I saw Louise Brooks (silent film star) first, and she seemed to be fighting a collection of blobs. The blobs coalesced into a knobby-headed alien with six fingers on his hand. Geometric shapes turned into bricks turned into a broken wall. I morphed an upright arm and hand into a cactus, and the fake crisis at the border came together.

Now that I’ve looked at this again, I wonder if the space alien and Louise are really doing a tango in the ruins of a Spanish mission. Perhaps the title should be, “Mission Impossible”.

Crossing the Atlas Mountains: Hannibal’s Doom

Not sure about the progression of this one. The reclining foreground figure showed up early, as did the pile of rocks (mountains?). The lady didn’t want to develop a proper head, and the odd fingers showed up. A snake leapt forward to bite the hand, and a shadowy figure emerged behind the foreground nude.

Thoughts of Cleopatra and oases danced in my head, but the ghost elephants in the background didn’t fit. Then I thought of Hannibal shipping his elephants from Northern Africa into Europe to do battle with the Romans. I imagined them crossing the North African Atlas Mountains (near the Mediterranean shore ) as a prelude to their Alp-crossing expedition. The hand-headed lady and snake became omens of ill fortune.

The technique of finding imagery from random marks comes from Max Ernst, the German-American Surrealist. He used to paint thinned out oils on a canvas, press it to another canvas, and twist them. He pulled them apart and used the odd blobs on each to suggest animals, buildings, geological formations.