Snakes in a Pen

Rob Dunlavey February 19, 2021

Some snakes emerged from my dip pen this week. I think it’s worth knowing that the paper I’m drawing on is not traditional and it effects the types of lines I’m able to draw. And this affects what comes out of the pen.

So, this paper: when I order ink for my printer they always tuck in free sample packs of photo printing paper. It’s very glossy on one side and it curls up slightly. I draw on this glossy side. The crow quill nib catches or skips or moves unequally across this artificially smooth surface. It’s just a thing, not a big thing. But it does have an effect on what happens when the impulses travel between my head and my hand. Sometimes this is the most important and revelatory part of making art: the plumbing between the mind and the material.

Poor snake, he seems to be stuck on the telephone wires…

06-07-11a: a very colorful snake from 2011

07-05-13a: Eve and the serpent sharing an apple

Hunting Owl

Rob Dunlavey February 12, 2021

Be alert! Before the day begins or as the sun is setting, crepuscular hunters dart from the shadows hoping to find a sleepy mouse.

02-12-21a: The sun is setting and the owl sets out to hunt.

Does Nature Have Feelings?

Rob Dunlavey January 26, 2021

Why is this bird angry? It’s angry because humankind has selfishly despoiled the Earth leaving other animals and plants without the resources they need to have viable life. Imagine walking down the street minding your own business and the squirrels and robins start to call you names and argue with you. They shout and tell you to go back to where you came from. They are disgusted with you and your species’ selfish behaviors. Imagine being called out as an entire species! Who might we negotiate with if we wanted to seek compromise and mend our ways?

But Nature appears to not have feelings. Life forms quietly become move anywhere might sustain them or go extinct. They don’t protest. They don’t make us feel guilty. Humankind doesn’t get a summons in the mailbox to appear at some tribunal. No. We just find ourselves slowly and slowly more alone in the world with this gnawing fear that life is out of balance.

Maybe we can begin by listening to the people who listen to Nature: the naturalists and biologists, the artists and scientists. Maybe we can start to listen better with our ears, eyes and hearts. And then we will scale back our ways.

Inauguration Day

Rob Dunlavey January 20, 2021

We made it!

01-12-21a (pencil, charcoal, ink, watercolor)

Martín Ramírez

Rob Dunlavey January 12, 2021

One of my favorite artists is Martín Ramírez. He was definitely not included in my survey of Western Art History when I was an undergraduate art student. The closest we may have gotten was a mention of Jean Dubuffet and post WWII art. Ramírez was a Mexican cowboy and farm hand caught between various bits of lawlessness who went to El Norté in 1925 for work and eventually got swept up in the Byzantine immigration detention processes in California. He spoke no English. One bad thing led to another and he was eventually diagnosed as a schizophrenic and, starting in 1931, spent the remainder of his life in state psychiatric institutions where he started making drawings and collages on which is posthumous fame now rests.

About a decade or two ago, I saw a show of his large works at a museum in New York City. And I keep a postcard reproduction of one of his train and tunnel images near my work table.

The train emerges from the tunnel on the left and will traverse an open section of tracks in the center before disappearing into the tunnel entrance on the right. It’s a mysterious, surreal, hopeful and sinister dream-like image. One of those predicaments that offers no resolution. The only comfort, if you can call it that, is that we are only observers and not participants in the predicament.

The top image on this page is my own and it is more hopeful. Parallel lines and and colors start to define a space. Is it a map? Is it a subterranean tangle of tunnels? The birds (all for one and one for all!) will investigate. Their combined good sense will save them.

Still, I am moved and heartbroken when I think about Martín Ramírez’s life and the unfair things that befell him. At least he had art to help shape his tangled life experience for himself and others. It’s aggravating that he’s been swept up again into the art collecting machinery of this world. But how else would the story have come to me, to the world ? Recommended reading: “Martín Ramírez: Framing His Life and Art” by Víctor M. Espinosa (University of Texas Press, 2015)

Looking for Trouble

Rob Dunlavey January 7, 2021

Illogical behavior makes total sense, if that’s all you know.

2021 calendar poster

Rob Dunlavey December 23, 2020

My 2021 calendar poster has just returned from the printers. I’ve put it up for sale on Etsy (here). You can also contact me directly if you’d like one for yourself. The cost is $8.00 US + postage. I can ship it folded and flat or rolled in a sturdy tube for a few pennies more. It is offset printed on semi-gloss 100 lb paper. It is 18 x 24 inches. Here are some pictures:

When the Mona Lisa is having her bath, my calendar is sometimes on view in Paris.

Inclement Weather

Rob Dunlavey December 17, 2020

We’re getting a ton of snow today. Here are some pictures of inclement weather for you. Stay warm and dry!

A long, wet commute if you live in a city.

The old ship plows through the waves and wind.

After the storm, everyone can come out to play.

2017

Rob Dunlavey December 2, 2020

I was browsing through work from 2017. This is all uncommissioned, personal work. Some interesting developments. Here are a few things to get started.

On The Edge

Rob Dunlavey November 15, 2020

A little maxim that gives me comfort comes from Alexander Giroux, “Repetition is not duplication”.

In most of my drawing/paintings I start out with no idea what will ultimately end up on the paper. But I tend to make the same choices and come to similar conclusions. It can be a frustrating process where I’m frequently reminded of my imaginative limitations. Every work has its mistakes and some spur original thinking or sometimes, the remembering of some deeply forgotten thing of personal importance. It’s nice when those things find their way out into the art. So maybe, like exercise or therapy, art making is a path to some greater comfort or integration.

The interplay between my limited means (paper, choice of media, format, problem solving abilities and imagination) end up equalling what we know as “style” which can comfort the artist and their audience. But make no mistake, style is not the goal. The goal is the integration of the self and the proclamation of its beauty and potential usefulness to others. Can other people incorporate some of it into their own worlds? Can they support you and see the ultimate value of the artist’s selfish enterprise?

11-10-20a: watercolor, ink “Beasts of Burden

Empty Cities

Rob Dunlavey November 9, 2020

When the pandemic invaded our cities in the spring, the streets were empty and people were sheltering inside their homes and apartments. Who fed the pigeons? // It was quiet and lovely and spooky. Definitely not right. Cities have come back …and so has the virus. Maybe this time around the outcome will be a bit different.

09-20-18a: crayon, acrylic, watercolor, ink

Waiting

Rob Dunlavey November 5, 2020

What do animals do when humans are not around? They watch and wait. They sleep. They look for things to eat. But most of all, they wait in the eternal Present for the next thing to happen (which is probably more waiting.)

When the Wolf is Hungry, Nobody Eats

Rob Dunlavey November 1, 2020

With limited graphic means one weekend in a vacation home, these characters appeared in my sketchbook. Who are they? What is their dynamic? How will things turn out?

We are not exactly in the Garden of Eden. This place is scrubby and rocky. The stems are spiny and thorny. The sky just is agitated and can’t make up its mind. A pair, or sometimes a trio of crows pal around. They are participants and observers. Into this stasis, swaggers a very hungry wolf who has one insatiable desire: to gobble up smaller animals.

The nimble birds are always one step ahead and soon they begin to feel sorry for the wolf. It is the wolf’s nature to be scrawny and hungry. How can they help the poor thing? Can they do it safely? Can they live happily ever after?

The Wolf and the Three Crows

Rob Dunlavey October 29, 2020

The wolf has perhaps outgrown his magenta cave. He’s so big and he barely fits and scrapes his scrawny vertebrae on the hanging stalactites. The three crows have been wondering about the unpleasant noises coming from the cave. Will they depart, terrified? Or will they stay at a respectful distance and offer to help the wolf find someplace a little more commodious?