works of wanderlust

Month: October 2023

  • of a thousand little details.

    I find there are certain kinds of art that take a lot of concentration, focus, and attention to everything. But then there are other kinds of art that almost let the mind fall into a bit of a flow-state and the world passes by and you play an episode of some random tv show in the background or listen to an audiobook and then suddenly an hour has passed and you’ve filled up a nice chunk of the page with something that is actually pretty interesting.

    I suppose in some ways you could just call that doodling, and if so, I was doodling. I prefer to think of it as planned illustration using a method that was repetitive enough that the aforementioned flow-state was inevitable as was the specific level of detail that I set out to achieve when I started drawing.

    additive details

    I tend to do a lot of drawing where I draw big shapes and fill in the details afterwards. But lately I’ve been flipping the process and starting with details, and iteratively working to build something big out of lots of little pieces. You do need to always think about the big picture and sometimes starting with strategy is fine. But other times when you just start building the pieces you know are important, then time and persistence turn into something you might not have planned but is exactly what you need after all. What this amounts to is the collective result of a thousand little unplanned details. Each detail is part of a bigger picture, not random but certainly plucked out of the air in the moment of creation to build a whole picture that is a multiple of its parts.

    I’ve been following a couple accounts on instagram that appeared in my suggestions months and months ago based on “similar interests” and when I first saw them they seemed to be sketching in the realm of what I would have classically called “urban sketching” but now am not exactly sure. I suppose that denotes a certain originality and probably what helped catch my eye to their work in the first place. Fast forward, however, and were you to compare this week’s sketching efforts to those account I think you’d find a tremendous amount of similarity. Not replication of substance, per se, but in what I have been “doodling” there is certainly a style and approach that is following the spirit of highly detailed, medium format, one point perspective illustration of architecture.

    My buildings are purely fantastical, tho. I’m not sure how much reality is ascendant in those artists work.

    Which leaves me at the end of this week doodling in ink on 11×14 sheets of paper while listening to audiobook novels and half-watching old episodes of Doctor Who in the background while I imagine interconnected structures overlapping in a kind of weirdly futuristic but also anachronistic style that is neither dystopian nor utopian, and mostly just hard to put my finger on.

    Art is art, tho. So take from it what you will. And while you’re thinking about it, why not check out the long format video I made of some of the process:

  • Just A Re-introduction

    The Cast Iron Guy was my pandemic project.

    I needed an optimistic moment in every day, something thru with to look out onto a crazy world and find something solid and reliable.

    If you’ve come here looking for in depth cast iron cooking advice, or one of those guys who uses electrolysis to do amazing things restoring cast iron pans, or somebody who builds a raging bonfire in his backyard and slays a piece of meat to perfection… well, you might be a bit disappointed.

    If you’ve come here looking for a guy who is a little disillusioned by technology and writes about some of the simpler things in life like exploring the outdoors, finding spaces in local nature, cooking real food, and trying to be a good citizen of planet Earth… well, you might be closer to the right place.

    At the time I started this I was incredibly cautious about using my real name because of my job and my role supervising people and the fact that I’d been burned in the past by people twisting the things that I’d written against me, words that were genuinely innocent and largely apolitical, but honest and real and left me a bit exposed to people who use those things to their every advantage. I’ve kept my real name off this site for that reason and I write under the moniker of Bardo. The name has a couple meanings and you can look up the eastern spiritual meaning yourself, but it was also the name of a character in a book I read decades ago that stuck with me for his personal philosophy and the struggles he had abiding it. It worked for me then, and it still does now.

    I haven’t written here in a while because life has been full of chaos and change.

    Most notably, I burnt out my professional soul to a deep fried crisp and voluntarily left the job that had done the burning out. As I write these words I’ve been on a “career break” for almost exactly four months, in which time I’ve been on three international trips, trained for and run a marathon, started a personal journey of pursing the creative life I abandoned when I was young for more practical and “paying” jobs, and generally tried to heal that aforementioned burnt out soul.

    I logged into this site again this morning and noted that while I’ve been off exploring the woods, travelling the world, and making art, people have been reading what I wrote here during those pandemic-writing years. Some of the posts, I kid you not, have over a hundred thousand clicks, and if I had comments turned on I’m sure would be filled with neglected interactions.

    So, what’s a cast iron guy to do with a mature blog in which he’s not sure what to write anymore? I suppose, this reintroduction is a start, but maybe a promise that I’ll try to come back here, while not daily, routinely to post more stuff. I still cook. I still explore. I still take excellent care of a respectable cast iron collection.

    If that’s worth anything, stay tuned.

    -Bardo