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study’s end
Twenty four hours from when I started penning these words will mark the start of the final module in a bit of professional upgrading I’ve been working on. That’s to say, class starts this time tomorrow and then after this final weekend of lectures—and one more big assignment to submit—I’ll be complete. On a weird
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hiragana
We have loosely settled on a trip across the Pacific. Unable to confidently travel southbound across the border for our semi-annual pilgrimage to the house of the mouse in California, my wife has set her sights on the sister park near Tokyo for sometime, hopefully, next year. And of course a couple weeks checking out
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about all the little details.
As Ferris Beuller wisely reminded us, life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. I spend a lot of time rushing. And this shortcoming often applies to my painting, as well. Of course, one of the so-called rules of watercolour painting that I picked
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of birches in autumn.
Summer has flitted by in a whirlwind of action, but not without a lot of paint staining the various papers and notebooks in my house. That’s to say, while I don’t really have an excuse for not posting for two months, it has not been because I have abandoned my art efforts, nor fallen to
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of transcending realities.
While everyone else is lamenting the creep of artificial intelligence into our lives, I took a different tactic and asked ChatGTP for some advice on how to become a time travelling, intergalactic artist. She told me the following A time-travelling artist would have a unique perspective and the ability to draw inspiration from various eras