I was remiss in not mentioning Mr. Kane’s name. Hard to look feminine with Pahoehoe hair.

With a name like Marimekko, it’s got to be Finnish.

Well, let’s see some of your doodles.

(1) Herb Kawanui Kane’s Pele looks masculine rather than feminine.

(2) My doodles never have straight lines. I doodle in smooth curves.

(3) The glorious colors of your last image remind me of the original Marimekko cottons, In the late sixties, every room in our house had different curtains from these boldly colored material, good colors for small children.

You know more than you know.

Most of the videos at the museum in question were almost all of them small topic. Do a stop-motion of Jer doing swimming motions down the street, Jan as a werewolf gently day-shifting, yourself in one of those presidential bank robber’s masks, raising your hand at a retail complex and reciting “Mr. Gorbochev, tear down this Mall!” All you really need is a video camera. Try it, you might like it.

But you know, I dislike video, even when it’s well done. it’s like listening to books on tape — I can read, and see, much faster than the artist will sometimes allow. And while I know theoretically that slowing down is often the point, it seems that that’s like writing a very boring book to make the point that life is boring (those books also slow down time:-)

But the fever dream of the monitor — ah, yes. Makes me want to do light art (like James Turrell). Only I don’t know anything about electricity or LCD’s or the phases of the sun.

I tried to produce this post on both the desk and the lap-top. The program requires me to have separate entry codes for each. It now seems undecided about which version - the desk or laptop - to put up at any one time. Just now the post came up with a nice page break, only to revert to an unbroken format. Also, I overdid the Addendum because the program didn’t put everything up on the first go-around. Henceforth it will be one computer, tops.

Oh those mooshy fantasy colors. Somebody stop me! They certainly do not translate over to paper. One can certainly become addicted to the glow, the sheer vivacity. When you can take a mundane scribble and translate it into a fever dream - when you can take the drab “is” and, using the magic of “anything possible”, as things appear on the screen, and concoct a neon world of it, then the sheer magnetism can suck the rust right off your belt.

I have mentioned a trip to Ithaca recently. The wedding was on the Cornell campus and I spent a while before the vows at the Johnson(?) Museum. It has a nice collection, but what got me was the commitment to video. There may be as many as ten rooms devoted to the medium. Clever. Low maintenance, no guards, always something new with the insertion of a disk, very trendy and eminently suitable to serving the needs of the art department. And everybody gets his or her dose of cello-fame.

The last one I can see, with the straight lines from the notebook, has great markings which,as you say, contrast to the rhythms of the notebook lines — as well as to the mooshy fantasy colors.

I worry about myself and photoshop, though. I can make my work glow on the computer — and that makes it look less rosy in real life. Something about light coming through as opposed to light bouncing off.

Of course, one could just become a media artist — time-based is particularly hot at the moment.