Issue 100!
And: the cyclops in the garden, ChatGPT, Nishant Jain, Wendy Mac, Koosje Koene, Judi Oyama, Karel Zeman, Gordon Lightfoot, and Mick Iredale.
HERE & NOW
I didn’t realize that the previous issue (April) was my one-hundredth until I had hit the “publish” button. I went back and and inserted an “after thought” announcement of it at the end, but I’ll say it again tonight, because I never imagined myself getting that far with this newsletter. Congratulations to me! My first issue came out on January 29, 2021 in the midst of the pandemic. I was congratulating myself then, too—just for surviving 2020. Feeling set apart from everyone, it seemed like a good time to reach out through a newsletter. And here we are in 2023, with plenty of challenges ahead. This image below by Georg Grosz that I posted in that first newsletter could apply to today’s world just as well:
The book contracts and other projects I’d been working on since last fall are completed. So I spent a couple of “vacation” days in my old hometown—which seems to have turned into the bicycle mecca of California. Bicycles and bike shops everywhere. So many that they’re getting meta about it: there’s a bike shop called Another Bike Shop. And, nestled in a little anarchist collective, there is a thing called The Bicycle Church. Looks like a great resource, especially for those who don’t have much money to plunk down for a bike. Anyway, we had a lovely, though perhaps too-brief getaway. I miss the wildness of Santa Cruz area beaches.
I’ve decided to settle back in to newsletter writing slowly, meaning every-other-week for awhile. This seems like a good time for me to review where I’ve been and where I want go with the newsletter, as well as my approach to art and selling it. The two online platforms I have used recently raised the percentages that they are taking from their artists, and it may be time for me to leave. I’m thinking of focusing mostly on selling locally—which is more fulfilling on a lot of levels—like, more fun! I’m also thinking of my art more in terms of local contexts and provenance.
Today has been overcast, and a bit misty, despite insistent breezes that aid the wattle tree in raining down its seemingly endless supply of yellow pollen on this little house. I am not happy with the wattle tree, as I am allergic to its pollen. Acacias are a “national treasure” in Australia. Its seeds are said to be nutritious. The tree in my yard is a “red-eyed wattle” or acacia cyclops and can grow up to 7 meters high. It’s definitely aiming for some lofty, cyclopian height. And it’s very assertive in its desire to fertilize . . . everything.
I suspect it was planted here by Father Larry (R.I.P), a pipe-smoking, beret-wearing Catholic priest who once lived in my cottage and was apparently a wonderful guy. I would like to have a talk with him about that tree. And maybe the six-or-so other Australian trees and bushes planted around the tiny yard.
ART & WRITING
Just as a lark, I asked ChatGPT to write my artists’—er, poet’s, bio. Here’s what it came up with:
Write one paragraph explaining who the poet Jean Vengua is, and what kind of poetry she writes:
Jean Vengua is a Filipino-American poet, editor, and educator. She was born in Bicol, Philippines, and grew up in California. Her poetry explores themes of identity, migration, and the intersections of language and culture. Vengua's work often incorporates multiple languages, such as English, Tagalog, and Bikol, creating a hybrid poetic language that reflects her own experiences as a bicultural and multilingual person. Her poetry is known for its experimental style and use of form, often incorporating collage, found text, and visual elements. Vengua has published several poetry collections, including "Prau" (2017) and "Language Ruins" (2011), and her work has appeared in numerous anthologies and literary journals.
I was not born in the Philippines, and have never been to Bicol. I was a college educator for awhile. I wish I knew all those languages, but I’ve always had trouble with acquiring “new” languages, which perhaps is why my work tends toward the experimental. I do like that title, though: “Language Ruins (2011)!” Wonder who wrote it?
Second try, same query:
Jean Vengua is a Filipino-American poet, editor, and visual artist. She was born and raised in the Philippines and later moved to the United States where she currently resides. Vengua's poetry is known for its exploration of identity, cultural heritage, and migration. Her writing often incorporates elements of experimental form and language, utilizing techniques such as collage and erasure to create a hybrid of poetry and visual art. In addition to her own work, Vengua has also been active in promoting the work of other Asian-American poets through her role as an editor and curator.
Can’t seem to shake the idea that I was born in the Philippines! I was born in San Francisco.
Third try, same query:
Jean Vengua is a Filipina-American poet, visual artist, and musician based in California. Her poetry and art often explore themes of identity, history, and the intersections of culture and language. In her visual art, she frequently uses mixed media and collage techniques to create textured, layered pieces that incorporate found objects and text. Her work often combines visual and textual elements, blurring the boundaries between poetry and visual art. Through her multidisciplinary approach, Vengua creates a unique and thought-provoking body of work that challenges conventional ideas about art and identity.
That’s closer—and I like “unique and thought-provoking”! But I wouldn’t call myself a musician—although I did write an article in 2004 on U.S. Filipino musicians of the early 20th century, and their connection to the Midwestern Chautauqua circuit, and briefly kept a blog on the topic (my dad, grandfather and granduncle were all musicians).
Well, the AI just can’t seem to shake the idea that I was born in the Philippines. No doubt it was culled from my various bios online as well as other people’s bios—perhaps with similar names. Anyway, this exercise doesn’t say much about ChatGPT, except that it provides a “snapshot“ of the AI Large Language Model (LLM) at one point in its development, which seems to be expanding by leaps and bounds, to the dismay of some. Maybe by the end of summer it will have me all figured out.
Oh, right: art. I had to put it aside the past few months, and I’m not going to push myself to create it just for this issue. It’ll come. But here’s another image from the first issue of Eulipion Outpost. A reminder that it’s just fine to return to basics and start small:
LINKS
I found these three artists while reading and posting on Substack’s new writers’ social media, Notes:
Nishant Jain calls himself the Sneaky Artist. Sometimes he leaves art for people to find in free tiny libraries—great idea. In this video he talks about accidentally becoming an artist and what makes him “sneaky”:
Wendy Mac on “Drawing Medicine for Fatigue” and the power of constraints or “The Art of Chance.” Btw, I wrote about constraints I have used in “Rules Will Set You Free” (3/6/2021).
Koosje Koene on what she learned from exhibiting her work. Especially as I prepare for the 2023 Artists Studio Tour this fall—I appreciate her discussion of not “being precious” about one’s art and learning to let go, as well as her detailed observations on exhibiting her abstract paintings for the first time.
And a local skateboarder/artist:
Judi Oyama is a Santa Cruz-based graphic designer. She’s also a badass sixty-plus year old skateboard champion:
SOUNDINGS
“Inspirace” a Czech animation by Karel Zeman from 1949 using glass blown figures:
R.I.P. Gordon Lightfoot. The buskers are still singing your songs out on the streets, and will be for a long time. Here is Mick Iredale in Leeds singing “Early Morning Rain” :
Thanks for hanging in there with me! If you have any ideas for future issues, your thoughts are welcome. A few links:
My Ko-Fi page. Thanks again to my supporters!
A few new changes to my just-for-fun, no-name Neocities website (which I’m building using html more-or-less from the ground up, and learning CSS for it, too). Warning: I’m still trying to figure out how to make the header look non-clunky on mobile phones; best to see it on a desktop computer. Building a website from scratch feels like art to me. Building a website on a corporate platform feels like work.
My favorite Lightfoot song is "(That's What You Get) For Lovin' Me" Also, just taught my son another boomer song "Beautiful" which is made up of a pile of major seventh chords.. .
Seeing your work, reading your words is thoroughly humanizing, a reminder of who I am and what I am doing. Thank You!