A Scintillating Rapture

We all know that the mundane drifts towards sacred knowledge and from time to time it gives us a flash of awareness of what's behind the boring curtain of the reality we live in. Almost like a presque vu but with a headache.

The other day at 9 AM sharp I arrived at my local post office to ship 30 Kickstarter packages internationally.  Rosa, the post office clerk, had to scale each package, type my and the destination's address into the computer, put the the customs form into a plastic cover, attach it onto the envelope and set it aside for pick-up. Each package took about 5 minutes for her to process. After Rosa worked on 3 packages I did my calculations: 5 minutes x 30 packages = 150 minutes = 2, 5 hours + after every 10 packages Rosa has to take a couple of other customers for 10 minutes so that line doesn't get too long = 3 hours in the post office at minimum.

It was pretty certain that Rosa will not process my packages unless  I was there by her window. So I resigned myself to the 3 hour wait (you can fly from JFK to Miami in 3 hours!).

To make my wait to seem shorter I pulled out my sketchbook and started to draw. My favorite drawing exercise is to follow where ever the first 3 random lines lead me.

I drew this:

And then I drew that:

But when I started another drawing I noticed that I was not able to to see it as a whole, parts of it were blocked out by some blurry spots of non-vision, like this:

- Oh no! - I thought in a flash of panic. - My eyesight it getting really bad. What if I am not able to draw all the 30,000 drawings for my new animated feature film? My Kickstarter backers will be upset! My whole career will be destroyed! And what about my reputation!

I looked around. The rest of the world also had spots of this non-vision. Another, more alarming thought entered my mind.

- What if this is not trouble with my vision but with my brain? What if I am experiencing brain hemorrhage?

My heart started to pound. I wanted to shout out to the other 9 customers standing in line:

- Call 911! I am about to pass out!

But I remembered that for the last 20 minutes those 9 customers had been casting ill wishing stares at me and my suitcase full of international packages that had yet to be processed. 

I turned and looked at Rosa. Suddenly, the spots of non-vision turned into a bright shimmering sharp joint zigzag lines that looked like Great China Wall that decided to be more aggressive on both sides.

- Ah! - I sighed with relief.  - I know what this is!

It was the Scintillating Scotoma that I experienced for the first and only time on February 14, 2013, 7 hours after our Kicstarter campaign for "Rocks In My Pockets" had concluded. This Scintillating Scotoma was followed by a paralyzing headache. And I think it ripped the fabric of my brain in some places because afterwards I was dizzy for 3 weeks as if I was walking on a ship crossing stormy seas. Holding onto walls while walking was my solution.

I knew now what would happen. As Rosa processed the package to Australia a mild headache hit and followed me when I returned home for lunch at 1 PM.

To show respect and become more friendly with the pain and scotoma, I looked up its description on Wikipedia: 

"Some describe seeing one or more shimmering arcs of white or colored flashing lights. An arc may take the form of a definite zigzag pattern, sometimes called a fortification spectrum, because of its resemblance to the fortifications of a castle or fort seen from above."

YES. How did they know? 

Suddenly, this very special and very personal event of experiencing migraine aura in the post office became a super social event that connected me with millions of people before me, after me and people alive now. If I was able to describe my personal scintillating scotoma as zigzagy fortifications of a castle or fort seen from above and millions and millions of other people described it as the same, how could we not say that our brains are made of the same material producing the same effect when presented with circumstances of stress, too much caffeine and a long wait in post office?

It felt assuring that my brain produced the same magical electric hiccup as did the brains of other people. It was a proof that I was human. And for reasons unknown I was chosen to be given the sacred knowledge of Scintillating Scatoma even if it ripped the fabric of my frail brain one more time. 

International Women's Day

Since I woke up this morning I keep seeing posts like "Happy International Women's Day, Dear Women!". They seem well meaning but just don't make me feel the overwhelming happiness for the day that was supposed to celebrate my gender. And what does it even mean to celebrate women?

It reminds me of March 8 in Soviet Union, where those celebrations served as a mix of a Valentine's Day and a ritual of penance and absolution of one's (mostly male) sins. All a man had to do on March 8 was to show up with a bunch of red tulips on the doorsteps of all the females he had wronged and say: " Happy Women's Day, dear women! I love you so much!" and all the abuse he caused for a year was forgiven and forgotten. 

I don't want women to be celebrated in exchange for absolution. We need no celebration, no flowers, no sweet greetings. We need true equality. The original March 8 in 1917 showed the power of women. Then the meaning of the day was hijacked and corrupted to keep women placated and away from the real power of governing and wealth. 

This March 8 put your marching boots on and join the March forward!

The Kickstarter Drama in Pictures

The story goes like this: a small independent animated feature film "My Love Affair With Marriage" is in love and would like to get funded. It decides to propose. Dramatics twists and turns entail.

You can continue to support "My Love Affair With Marriage" on KickstartMarriageFilm.com

THANK YOU!

The Year Between Moons

I have met people who follow astrological instructions to the letter, and met people who dismiss astrology as a hoax. Personally, I like astrology and horoscopes. They make me think where I am in my life at the moment and help to define what I want from the future.

The Chinese measure their years with the help of 12 animals (one of them - Dragon - is an imaginary beast). A year ago we celebrated the start of the year of the Monkey. We were promised a year that rewarded wit and opportunism. "An auspicious time to start new projects"! - one of the horoscopes advised. So I made the following greeting card to celebrate the year of the Monkey:

Opportunism, I thought, is my second skin. I love opportunities. And I started a new project, as advised. 

But before long, in March, my landlords informed that they are not extending my lease. I was too small a fish for their liking.

- Move out so we can make more money! - they said.

After a frantic 7 week search we found a space that suited the needs of my operation of building and filming sets. But it was more expensive and needed some serious work before moving the studio in. To save money, we laid the floors and build the walls ourselves nearly breaking our backs, and in June moved the studio.  

In August the elections started shaping up and to help my candidate who was running against a person with a short attention span, I went every weekend to Pennsylvania to canvass for her. It is not possible for her to lose, I thought. She is too good and her opponent is too loose.

But to a great shock of at least 66 million people who rooted for her, she lost. 

- What is this? - I demanded to know from the Astrology books. - What kind of Monkey is this? - I yelled.

Then I saw in the small print under the predictions: due to Monkey's short attention span, the year will be full of unexpected turns and twists. Things could turn on a dime.

Which they surely did.

Opportunities, I realized, in 2016 were for the monkeys sitting on higher branches. My brand of opportunism didn't get to score in a year of this Monkey. 

So I turned my hopeful eyes to the next year - which is starting today- to the year of the Rooster. What does it promise and what is in the small print that I should know about?

The Rooster loves intense drama, the horoscope says. Organize and persist. The year will reward commitment and hard work.

- Oh well, - I said. - That means I have to start a Kickstarter campaign.

Because I can't imagine harder and more intense work than running a Kickstarter campaign.

So made a card to welcome you to the Year of the Rooster:

And I started a Kickstarter campaign for my new animated feature film "My Love Affair With Marriage". Because, you know, peck by peck I can collect a few thousand grains. I organize, I commit, I persist and work hard. What can go wrong?

The Question of God

As I sat down on an N train I took my backpack off to pull my drawing pad out. The car’s doors closed. The train started to move.

The woman one seat over leaned towards me and asked:

- Is Barclays Center the next stop?

It took a moment for me to mentally get hold where we were geographically, then said:

- Yes. Atlantic Avenue is the next stop.

To punctuate my information with good intentions, I smiled. Then turned back to the stubborn drawing pad that got stuck in the backpack’s pocket.

The woman, still looking at me said:

- It was a beautiful day, wasn’t it? The Sun came out and it wasn’t too cold.

I turned again, slightly irritated with the continuing interruption but determined to be kind.

- It probably was a nice day, - I said, - But I didn’t see any of it. I was working.

- Long day in an office, huh? – She said with eager sympathy.

I paused, considering if to correct the term “office” to “my own studio” but decided against it, as I wanted get to my unfinished drawing as soon as I could.

- Yes, - I said, turned back to my backpack and finally retrieved the drawing pad.

- May I ask you another question? – The woman asked. – It is a very simple question.

I was about to open my notebook and looked at her with a growing impatience.

- Go ahead.

- Have you read Bible?

It is a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question that tricks one into a four-hour conversation.

- I have read the Bible but wouldn’t call myself an expert on the book, - I answered, hoping my curt reply would nip the four-hour conversation in the bud and turned back to what I really wanted to do. As I opened my book, the woman asked:

- Do you believe in God?

I closed the book and looked at her carefully. She was middle-aged, with a hopeful expression on her comely face. Like a Manhattanite she was dressed with sophistication yet here she was, in Brooklyn, trying to hook a stranger into a conversation about God. I have no time or patience for this. Make it abrupt. I said curtly:

- No.

- Why not.

- Because of where and how I grew up.

- I see – in Soviet Union, - the woman said with a knowing smile.

Well, at least she was good at placing people’s accents.

She continued:

- But times have changed in Russia…

Although now I see, no – she didn’t get my accent that precisely, just very general geographic whereabouts.

- … and now you can believe in God in Russia.

- I can’t believe in God because God doesn’t exist, - I replied, my heart pounding. I hate to contradict other people. It stresses me out.

- I am here to tell you the good news - God exists whether you believe or not, - she said, while her eyes narrowed. She continued to smile.

- That’s exactly right – I don’t have to believe in God in order for you to believe that God exists.

- But God exists, - she insisted.

- You seem very certain about that.

- He sends messages. He speaks to me.

- Not to me.

- You have to be perceptive.

- Look…

- Emma. My name is Emma, - she said with a slight nod.

- Look, Emma, I came to this world by chance and knowing it makes me appreciate every moment, and every person I encounter. I am connected with a larger community and do as much good as I can. I don’t need to believe in God to be a good person.

- You didn’t come to this world by chance. It was God’s plan. He gave you the office and your job and this beautiful day.

It was hopeless to tell her I created my own job and rented my own studio. But one must keep a conversation about God simple.

- I just don’t see the world the way you see it, - I responded. I didn't want to win this conversation, but didn't know how to get out of it.

- It doesn’t depend on how I see it. God is the absolute truth. I want you to know God exists. Why can’t you take the message? – she said with bewilderment.

In a 5-minute ride from Brooklyn’s 36th street stop to Atlantic Avenue she wanted to change every single of my 287 billion neural pathways that took half a century to form. She must believe strongly in her abilities. But so do I. Let me turn this around.

- Can I ask YOU a simple question?

She looked at me with an eager hope and immediately said:

- Yes.

- What prompts you to strike a conversation about God with a complete stranger? – I inquired.

- I want to deliver the message of God to every single soul I encounter.

- How would you feel if a stranger came to you on a subway and started to tell you that what you believe in is just a silly fairy tale and there is no God?

- I would feel sorry for them, - Emma said and put her hands together as if in a prayer.

- So, there. That is how I feel, for you.

That moment the train stopped at Atlantic Avenue. The doors opened. Emma got up.

- I will pray for you, - she said. Her smile covered mean tension.

- Thank you. My best wishes to you.

She walked out. The train moved towards Manhattan Bridge and I opened my notebook. Now I had only 5 minutes till the next stop to finish the commissioned beagle drawing. But Emma and her quest stayed on my mind.

I got off on Canal and walked towards 6th avenue. Why this Emma felt she had the right to barge into my very psychological core to try to make me into someone else? Argh, the arrogance of people who believe in God – they think they can snap their fingers and everybody will become like them. Why this is so maddening?

Deep in thought, I crossed Canal street without looking. From the corner of my eyes I saw a flash of headlights. I turned my head. Suddenly time slowed down. A car was about to collide with me. A jolt of panic stopped my breath and paralyzed my limbs. I knew I had to move either forward or fall backwards but was unable to move. Then, just as the wind from the car’s bumper brushed by my knee, a powerful muscle of unseen energy pushed my body out of the car’s way.

I flew backwards and landed on the sidewalk. People screamed. The car’s brakes screeched. I took a breath. I still felt the touch of the force that pushed me. It felt good. Then I knew what it was. God had saved me. God exists.

Emma walked out of the subway car alight with indignity. She seemed such a nice woman! But turned out to be so rude! Emma knew she would feel sorry for the woman and would pray for her eventually, but right now she felt anger. Those people denying God! So arrogant! So smug! The woman had insulted not only God but also the very core of Emma herself.

Deep in thought, Emma stepped from the curb to cross Atlantic Avenue when she heard a shout. She turned her head and saw a bicyclist about to slam into her. Time slowed down. A jolt of panic simultaneously urged her to run and filled her body with lead. Emma saw her own reflection in the bicyclist’s glasses. She was only able to raise her hands in a useless gesture of defense when the metal of the bicycle and the body of the bicyclist crashed into her.

The impact made bones that Emma’s whole life seemed to be fully integrated with her muscles and flesh to come apart in 206 separate entities just like sparks of firework separate from their container after explosion. Emma became aware of every molecule in her body. It made her feel utterly alone and at the same time - belonging to the larger world outside her that was made of molecules, too. Universe is indifferent, Emma suddenly realized as she was falling. Now I know: God does not exist.

Road to a Grumpy Crow

A few hours before my HOLIDAY SPECIAL offer expired an order for came in with the following instructions:

"My creature of choice would be a crow. I love crows. People think crows are wise, and mystical, but I reckon that's probably not entirely true. They're grumpy, and badass, and think the world revolves around them. Also they have to put up with an awful lot of bad weather. They have to live up in the trees!"

The description of crows reminded me of this bird:

Lives on trees. Is quarrelsome. Very social. Has reputation.

But that is called Rook or Jackdaw. While THIS bird below is what people in my country call a Crow:

Lives on trees and streets. Promiscuous in regards to food (will eat garbage). 

So I sent a message to Richard (the person who ordered the drawing) and asked to clarify. He instantly replied with the image of this bird: 

Screams a lot. Grumpy.

And another image - of the sculpture he made of the bird:

An image of a bird who lives on trees made out of a tree!

Richard, it turned out, is an accomplished artist who besides all other things does artwork on commission. You can see his work HERE and HERE and HERE. This is the first time he commissioned another artist to make something for him. I nearly fainted from fretting: just one look at my art will make a real artist recognize what a fraud I am! But work is work. I've already spent the money, so I had to deliver the art. I must dazzle Richard with a brilliant idea so that he wouldn't see my failing at the craft. Would he like this:

A crow's beak wearing grumpy expression is a mask covering gentle kind soul.

Oh, no, this can't be good enough. Let me try something more interesting:

Communicating crows deftly defy gravity.

Meh. I could do better. There is something to the idea of Richard carving an image of a crow out of wood. He also mentioned that he heats his old cold drafty house with firewood. He is taking away trees from freezing crows to keep himself warm. How about this:

A crow is a tree and Richard had chopped pieces of wood from it.

Yeah,  but does the idea of a crow related to trees reads well enough in this image? Let me make it more dramatic:

A crow is freaking out about wood chopped out of him.

Not sure if the idea reads too well. Its also a touch violent. Let me develop it a little better:

A crow sits on pieces of wood arranged like a sliced cake.

I am afraid I don't have skills good enough to render this idea clearly enough. Lets try to go in a different direction. I liked one of my first ideas of the crow wearing his beak as a mask:

A crow is ready for a party but no trees to party on.

Yes, but. I like that crows are black like coal. Like a shadow on a wall. What if the crow had a shadow? But in place of his heart there is a hole for light?

Crow has a warm heart full of light. It throws a flickery light like a burning stove.

But black and black on a white wall will not make a lot of color. I think Richard wants color. Lets see if I can make a colorful drawing with trees being the crow's home:

- It is my tree, my home. Leave it alone.

Doesn't seem too exciting. Lets return to that other crow drawing and develop it a bit more:

- My feet may be in the trees but I dream of a house.

Looks too flat, too 2D. I need a cinematic approach - foreground interplaying with background. Lets try one more time.

The Crow's dream of a house throws a dark shadow.

Well, this is not good, but I am running out of time. Let me just stop at this and make the best of it.

It is cold on the tree while Richard's house looks kinda warm.

The one thing you may not notice at the first glance, that the snow is painted in about 8 layers: first deep purple, then navy blue, then another layer of purple blue, then baby blue mixed with navy blue and so on. You will see all the colors if you pout the drawing in water. But then you may not have the drawing. 

Richard liked it.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

When a Rooster sings in the darkest hour of a night all unfriendly fiends scatter. Lets sing together to clear the way for the New Year! Happy 2017!

Finding a Perfect Beagle

On the day 5 of my Holiday Special offer to draw your favorite animal if you name one favorite thing about the animal I got a request to draw a beagle. The person's favorite thing about beagles was:

"Beagles have an understated, dignified quality about them (well, what I mean is that mine did). They’re not always serious, but they are dedicated."

A beagle and dignity. Makes sense. But how to show it in one picture? Hmm....

And so the race to find the perfect beagle begun. First I had to check if I remembered how a real beagle looked. Googled it.

Real Beagle!

Then tried to draw a beagle from memory.

Beagle sketch

After clarifying an image of a beagle I had to decide how to draw dignity. This person really admires dignity in beagles. It says a lot about the man. Lets put them all together - the man, the dog and dignity. I made a quick sketch.

Beagles on  Knees

The beagles are on the lookout - like proud captains of a huge ship they look for approaching dangers to divert them with a bark or bite.

Eh... I can do better. Lets make the beagle a real captain facing real dangers.

Beagle Meets Iceberg

Although Beagle looks dignified now, after his ship butts heads with the iceberg, he may not. Scrap this idea. 2016 was a bad enough year for all of us, no need to remind people how vulnerable this dignity thing is. Beagle must lead the ship to a better place, or to find something that's missing. Maybe tracking a trail lost in an ocean of smells? A beagle can lead a beagle. Lets try that.

- I am a beagle and I am like an eagle!

Lets see if there is a better angle to look at Beagle leading a beagle.

Beagle leads Beagle

Yes, this beagle is right on the nose! But wait!... beagles have beautiful ears. So warm and fuzzy one could eat them. Enwrapping ears.

Beagle Ear Wrap.

I have to remind myself that the thing about beagle I was asked to draw was dignity. What could be more dignified than giving a speech at United Nations?

- We, all the beagles.

The problem with giving a speech at United Nations is with all those people wanting to know you afterwards.

People Want to Know Beagle

And, God forbid, they may want to bring you to strange rooms and surround you.

Beagle Alone in a Room with People

You try to run away but they run after you.

People Want Beagle.

Even if you escape, they still send you presents.

People Love Beagle

And more presents.

People Send Piles of Love to Beagle

Only after they leave, Beagle is able to take a good look at people.

Beagle Looks at People

But it is obvious Beagle has something that people are drawn to.

People Look at Beagle

Finally Beagle was able to shake people off. But life wasn't the same without them. He had to find them again. 

Beagle Lost People

People didn't like that Beagle lost them.

People are Mad at Beagle

To please them Beagle does whatever people ask.

Beagle Feeds People

Beagle soon gets tired of the chore to feed people. He puts them in a biodegradable bag with marinade and puts a weight on top. 

Beagle Compresses People

Beagle steeps people in the marinade for three days then puts them into a pot.

Beagle Cooks People

He gives the pot to charity. But life without people is indeed not much fun.

Beagle Plants People

So Beagle finds some seeds people left on the floor and plants them in terracotta pots. But even planted in small pots people still have their own mind.

Beagle's People Grow Long Noses

Wait, where was I? I had to make a drawing of a beagle with dignity. Stop fooling around!

I think I had a perfect Beagle at some point but I lost him in the process. 

Merry Winter Solstice!

Sitting in the darkest night of the year I rake my brain and cannot remember last time when I have felt such an absolute despair and desolation. Before, when I felt rejected by a lover or a film festival or a friend, the rejection was painful but it felt like an isolated event. I thought that the larger world was still behind me, the Universe still had a provision of love in store for me. I had hope.

But where do you find hope when Universe seems to be smashing in pieces everything you love and cherish, turning against the very core of your Being?

I look and see that hope is still there - at my core. It is just more fragile and more secluded. So I made a few MERRY SOLSTICE cards to send you my Love in hopes to connect with you. Lets unite with the cores of our hearts: I am you and you are me. If you love me back, please let me know.

Thank you.

Thinking about the next four years 

Trying to remember where I put my sunshine boots

The Carpenter was born on the night between December 24th and 25th, when the longest night started to lose its power.

Lets all be carpenters and united together carve holes in the walls.

Illustrating Process

On December 5th I announced my HOLIDAY SPECIAL: until December 20th anyone for $100 (b&w) or $150 (color) can ask me to draw a picture of their favorite animal if they include one thing they like the best about that animal. There were 3  reasons I wanted to do it : 1) because I am an independent I rarely have to follow other people's guidelines/ideas and this is a good exercise to stay in shape 2) to engage with people who like my work - it's fun to give an opportunity to another person to be an art editor and order me around 3) to raise a little bit of money to be able to feed myself (if you saw my bank account you'd weep).

I got several orders and they were fun to do. But one, although seemingly an easy task, took quite a effort to develop. I wanted to share with you my process.  

The original request I received was this: My favorite animal is an octopus, and my favorite thing about them is the way they can do many fun things at once.

- Hmm... - I thought. - Many things at once.

So I sat down and sketched out my first idea on my first impulse:

Look, the octopus is getting her nails done while sleeping, while horsing around, being an angel, washing floors (it can be a fun activity if you treat it as a form of exercise), singing Christmas carols, picking a nose and stuffing a mouth with a cupcake!

The problem with this idea was that it required a lot of small details that may have gotten lost in its acrylic rendering (unless I made the picture really large, but it would be time and cost prohibitive to make it for only $150). So I decided to develop it in larger strokes:

The octopus is getting her leg massaged while checking Facebook on her iPhone and picking nose. But no, this didn't sit with me either: how I will fit the 5 other activities into this picture? Ah... What else is there for an octopus and his legs? Wait, what if the octopus' legs got into things?

The octopus is getting his nails done while his 6 other legs are creeping under women's skirts. But no, this disturbingly reminded me of our President Elect's behavior ("He was like an octopus groping me") so I scrapped that idea. Now: what if instead creeping inside the octopus' legs get outside?

Yeah, but once outside what is there for the legs to do? They kind of aimlessly look around for fun. Eh...

There is very little time to develop ideas in my busy studio, so I took my notebook with me to a screening and started to work on octopus ideas on subway. While drawing feverishly in the crowded subway car, a young woman started to stare at me, then she got up and stood close by to see what I am doing. It made my feel uncomfortable, but I was under a deadline so I continued on drawing.

- Can I ask you a question? - she finally addressed me.

- Go ahead.

- You seem to be so sure when you draw. How do you do it?

- Don't think I am so sure. In fact, I am totally unsure of myself when I draw, especially when people watch me.

- I am an artist myself and I am so timid compared to how you treat your lines.

- I don't care for the lines, I only care for the idea. And I am not afraid to make a mistake. In my world there are no mistakes, only discoveries.

- But...

Unfortunately it was my stop and I had to get off, leaving the young artist and her question in the limbo of half-answers. Good news: I had a couple of new ideas for what the octopuses legs could do in my notebook.

Octopus is a master puppeteer in a puppet theater! But wait, the request was for diverse fun the octopus is having simultaneously. Think some more. Woudln't it be fun to have octopus to be part of a human. Like, a human head with 8 legs?

Hmm... Maybe not. What if the octopus from behind the human was making him to do all kinds of fun and stupid things?

But there is not much space on the letter-size paper to show those fun and stupid things.

What if the octopus was sitting at a table like Jesus at the Last Supper but instead of Apostles he had his legs to talk to?

What if the octopus was like Jesus - "I have become all things to all people" (from Corinthians 9:22)?

I like that like Jesus the Octopus can be all things at the same time. Instead depicting simultaneous actions (sleeping, singing, horsing around) shift the focus on being - being all creatures at the same time. But who are all those creatures? I miss some animals here. What else is there? Tiger? Fish? Who has flippers?

Now I was ready to start to finalize the sketch.

And to add color.

Ready to send it off!