The Sad Trees of Columbia Pike

Someone spray-painted a frowning face on nearly 30 trees along Columbia Pike*. I have so many questions.

Is this street art? Graffiti? A gang sign? An angry arborist? A statement on global warming? A commentary on local environmental efforts? A protest against the Missing Middle? Were the trees angry all along, and some generous citizen just gave them a voice? Or is this what happens when a group of bored teens get their hands on some white spray paint?

While painting a single tree is low effort, when you count up the number of trees involved and the consistency of each face, it becomes a relatively significant undertaking. Each tree appears to have only one face, and the light poles and other nearby infrastructure were spared. This, combined with years of watching CSI, suggests organized behavior.

So while the obvious culprit is bored teens, it could be more profound. Or more likely, I just want it to be more profound. After all, I do have a habit of seeing street art where others see public defacement of property.

Here are more examples of the trees that now scowl at us from along the Pike. Sorry, trees, we'll try harder.

*Columbia Pike is a street in Arlington, Virginia, and has been since around 1810.

Killer Artwork

Weeks ago, I was running at nearby Theodore Roosevelt Island and came across these cool abstract sketches:

And here's another example from our recent Blue Ridge Mountains adventure:

Is this ancient indigenous art? A coded message from aliens? Teens messing around? Nope, they're bug trails. Specifically, the side effect of beetle activity. The phenomenon even has an appropriate name: Beetle Galleries. While beautiful, they're art with consequences: the beetles can (often? always?) kill the tree.

That's some high stakes art right there.

Same Signal Knob, Different View

Consider this drawing:

This scene took place on October 17th, 1864, just about 154 years to the day before Shira and I stood in the same location on Signal Knob. While Shira and I admired the tranquil views of the valley, Major General John B. Gordon and Jedediah Hotchkiss had an altogether different perspective. They were staring down at 34,000 enemy soldiers and pondering how a force less than half their size could defeat them.

Their assessment: we can take them. And so they did, two days later in the Battle of Cedar Creek.

After an audacious night march, Early’s troops forded the North Fork of the Shenandoah River and attacked the Yankees near Cedar Creek. The thick morning fog did much to aid the smaller Confederate force, concealing their numbers and causing confusion in the Federal ranks. The Southerners drove first one, then another, then a third Union Corps from their camps near Cedar Creek, across Belle Grove plantation, then north of Middletown. As the sun came up, it looked as if the Confederates had won an astounding victory.

It was a short won victory, however, lasting about 12 hours:

Meanwhile, word of the battle reached Sheridan, who was 20 miles away at Winchester. The diminutive Union chief saddled his prize horse, Rienzi, and rode furiously to the battlefield, rallying stragglers along the way. His arrival restored the spirits of his beleaguered troops who, Sheridan said, would be back in their camps by nightfall. Around 4:00 PM, the reorganized Federal host launched a savage counterattack for which Early’s men were ill-prepared and from which they could not recover. In the course of an afternoon, the Confederates were forced to yield the very ground they had captured scarcely twelve hours before. As the sun set over the Alleghenies, the Federals had not only regained the ground they lost, but had also extinguished any hope of further Confederate offensives in the Shenandoah Valley.

Still, what must it have been like to stand on Signal Knob, see a massive healthy force and see a tactical solution to defeating them?

The man in the drawing with the sketchbook is almost certainly Jedediah Hotchkiss. While Hotchkiss starts the war as a civilian teacher, he eventually becomes one of the Confederacy's most important weapons. His superpower: map making.

one of the Civil War’s most famous mapmakers, Jedediah Hotchkiss, was attached as topographical engineer on Confederate general Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson's staff, providing accurate maps that many historians believe played a central role in the success of Jackson's 1862 Valley Campaign.
...
There were very few maps for Hotchkiss to use as a base for his own work, and he usually rode out on horseback to survey the land himself. The Hotchkiss-Jackson collaboration bred success, for the general's lightning strikes depended heavily on making the most of the terrain. After Jackson’s death in 1863, Hotchkiss continued as a topographical engineer with the Confederate forces, frequently working personally for Gen. Robert E. Lee, but also traveling to Gettysburg with Lt. Gen. Richard Ewell, and later serving under Lt. Gen. Jubal Early, where one of his maps enabled the surprise Confederate assault at Cedar Creek in October 1864.

The Library of Congress hosts many documents and maps from Hotchkiss. My favorite so far is his personal sketchbook. The sketchbook includes this note on the front:

This volume is my field sketch book that I used during the Civil War. Most of the sketches were made on horseback just as they now appear. The colored pencils used were kept in the places fixed on the outside of the other cover. These topographical sketches were often used in conferences with Generals Jackson, Ewell and Early. The cover of this book is a blank Federal commission found in Gen. Milroy's quarters at Winchester, Jed. Hotchkiss

The sketches and notes in the margin are delightful. Using little more than colored pencils (and perhaps a straight edge?), he's created an impressive array of field expedient maps. They're part data, part artist creation. They're sort of terse visual poems that tell a story in a novel way. Man I love a well used notebook.

Here's a smattering of examples:

And so I close out this post with a challenge: I want to flip through Hotchkiss's sketchbook, but the Library of Congress site is too cumbersome to browse the entire collection. It's great for looking at a page here or there, but I really want to experience this as Hotchkiss did, as a handheld volume. So what's the best way to do this? Stay tuned, and find out

Update: See the answer to this challenge here.

Review: Drawing with Children

I reluctantly checked out Drawing with Children by Mona Brookes from the library. I've experimented enough with sketching to be confident that what's holding me back isn't a particular skill or bit of wisdom, but the commitment to practice, practice, practice. At least, that's what I assumed. Still, I have a firm policy when visiting the library: if a book sparks even the slightest interest, I check it out.

When it comes to learning to draw, I'm a fan of Danny Gregory's approach. I'm oversimplifying here, but it essentially works like this: learn a few basic concepts and then practice daily. Eventually, you'll start creating drawings you're proud of.

As I perused Brookes' Drawing with Children I realized that her method falls on the other end of the structured-learning spectrum. She covers topics from creating an art-friendly environment, to specific language students can use to analyze subjects. She provides exercises and specific works to draw that maximize a learner's chance of success.

Some may chafe under this regimented approach, but I've grown to see it as something quite positive. Through carefully planning Brookes has flattened the learning curve of drawing. If, for example, I had the opportunity to teach my niece to draw I'd almost certainly use Brookes' approach.

But the impact of Drawing with Children on me didn't stop there. It provided me with nothing short of a sketching epiphany. On page 114, in classic Brookes style, she spells out a 20 step algorithm for creating a drawing. This starts with warm-ups and ends with finishing touches. In her recipe she instructs students to start with a central point and build out from there. You see this approach in the sample drawings in the book. For example, one still life starts by drawing the knob which sits on top of the tea pot, which is one of the primary objects in the scene.

I realized this is exactly the opposite strategy I've been using for drawing. I've been attempting to draw the bounds of the scene and fill in detail from there.

Consider these objects:

I'd normally attacking this drawing like so:

The problem with this strategy is that I need to maintain a mental map as to how the contour lines I've drawn correspond to the scene. Compare that to Brookes' method, which focuses on drawing the focal point and building out from there:

I had assumed my frustration with drawing was lack of practice and general anxiety about failing. Instead, I realized I'm just trying to hold too many complex ideas in my head at one time. Using Brookes' approach, I was able to finish the sketch with relative ease:

The contour-approach I started above clearly has value. I think the proportion between the phone, medicine bottle and Lego-character is more accurate than my second attempt. But what good is accurate proportion if the process is mentally exhausting?

Perhaps I'll graduate away from Brooke's approach, but for now I'm telling you, this is a game changer.

Using art to change the world, one discarded wrapper at a time

I can't resist heaping praise on this sort of project:

early in the morning, with a pen, a painting board, and no paper, I cycle in the alleys of Dali Old town and collect wasted paper. Once I find some paper or cardboard, I dismantle the wrappers, flatten it, and draw the architecture in front of me directly on it. After that, it will be nailed to the wall exactly where I picked it so that it could be seen by more people.

I mean, what's not to love? It's low-tech, low-cost and high-impact. The creator is literally turning trash into something beautiful and using art to fight pollution.

I love that this project ignored scalability and Just Did It. You could easily sit around wondering how you can use art to change the world, or you can get on your bike, find some trash, and actually change a small part of the world.

See the results here, they're truly wonderful:

Thanks to this talk for the lead to this project.

Weekly Discoveries and the Role of 'Likes' in Art Appreciation

I'm not quite sure where my head was at last week, but musically I started off down tempo, and got even more somber from there with Syml's Where is my love. Things did pick up again with Big Wild's Aftergold, which is definitely a toe tapping beat.

Rone's Gravity is a fantastic creation. While it appears to be made up of little more than a single actress who does a whole heck of a lot of jumping, the results are nearly magical. It seems to me a great example of passion and effort over budget and computer effects.

And speaking of budget, Real Estate's Crime is a hilarious example of a (seemingly) budget driven video creation. Just mix un-dead extreme sports enthusiasts, an online ceramics sculpture business and old timey values and you've got a winning video, right? Right, indeed.

On the non-music side of things you've got Jay's road to art self discovery. It dovetails well with an art appreciation video I've posted before. At the end of the day, both videos share a similar message: when you focus primarily on the technical mastery of art, you're missing out on so many other important aspects.

In Jay's video he talks about how a simple drawing garnered an unusually high number of 'likes.' This opens the door to another interesting discussion: how much should 'likes' matter? Was Jay selling out because he adapted his drawing style to what people wanted? Or, was he rightly adjusting his style to best communicate with his audience? Clearly, chasing likes is a very bad idea. But using them as feedback that you're connecting, seems like a great idea. In Jay's case, 'likes' opened his eyes to the fact that a seemingly inferior drawing style could resonate more with his readers.

View all the videos here.

Weekly Discoveries x2

Between preparing for, and enjoying Passover, I managed to get behind in posting weekly discoveries. Not to worry, I've got two weeks worth right here. And there's definitely some real gems to be found.

Lots Holloway's Is Anything Real Anymore is both a wonderful song and a terrifically creative video. It's amazing what can be done using little more than simple cartoon drawings. This makes me want to re-read Blah Blah Blah, and work on my visual literacy skills.

I love the comment from this video: BUT HOW DOES HE BREATHE. Seriously, what an amazing performance.

If you have a straw and 5 minutes, you can create your own Oboe. So yeah, I did this, and it was definitely fun. Loud and annoying, but fun.

I discovered my new favorite rapper Oddisee in a most unusual fashion. I was watching his NNGE video and caught site of what looked like the Fort Washington. Indeed, it was. Apparently Oddisee is a local, along with being a wonderful artist.

I'm loving Chord Overstreet's Hold On. It's just a simple, beautiful, singing.

I don't quite get it, but I stumbled on a number of Minecraft powered Music Videos. Is this really a thing? Either way, it seems like another creative way to use video games, so that's a win in my book.

Check out all the videos here and here, or below.

Sketchbook #2 - Be Positive and Other Lessons Learned

Here's sketchbook #2, as motivated by Art Before Breakfast. Here's a few observations about this go-around:

First, by the 3rd drawing in the book something clicked and I full embraced Danny Gregory's philosophy about "bad drawings." Sure, it's cheeky to write well that turned out terribly on the page, but it's not especially useful. Instead, I'm embracing Danny's approach that a bad drawing serves to teach you something. Rather than thinking: "wow, that drawing of a chair is horrendous," it's far more useful to think "look at that, I never realized that the chair is twice as tall as it is wide--who knew?"

This dovetails well with the thought that's been kicking around in the back of my head: why even bother drawing? If photo realism is what I'm after, then why not just use the camera in pocket? No, drawing (like photography in many respects) is about seeing the world in a new way. I've learned something about a chair I'd never known, even though I've stared at them my entire life. Being annoyed with myself until my drawings look "good" is just silly: my drawing aren't going to be photo-realistic, but they can be vehicles for learning things right now.

Second of all, you'll notice some drawings of our newest family member. For privacy reasons, I can't post his photo. But, I feel comfortable sharing these drawings, because fortunately, they look nothing like him. Or, put another way: despite what my drawings suggest, we are not providing foster care for a space alien.

Finally, if Danny Gregory is the voice of Yes You Can in the back of my head, Teoh Yi Chie is the voice of Here's How. For example, his tutorial on how to draw a Chinatown Street Scene is awesome: he emphasizes a few key guidelines that you can apply to your drawing with relative ease. It's just the right level of information to be informative without being overwhelming.

I've stitched up Sketchbook #3 and it's currently sandwiched between a few text books. In another day or two, I'll be ready to dive back in and start sketching again.

A No-Excuses Quickie Sketchbook - Hand Sewn Edition

One decision that worked well during my week of daily drawing was to use my own hand made sketchbook. This sounds more impressive then it was: I took a few sheets of printer paper, folded them, and stapled them together.

This approach worked well for two reasons. First, there was the psychological benefit of dealing with a low page-count, zero-cost notebook versus an thick, leather bound affair. And second, publishing my content to the web was made easy. I sliced down the center of the book with an X-acto knife, laid the half-size sheets of paper out on the counter, and snapped photos. And just like that, I was a published artist.

While the staple binding of the last notebook worked, it required more finesse and time to assemble than I wanted to spend. For my next notebook, I decided to take a page out of the book binding world and sew my creation together. Again, this probably sounds like a complicated thing to do, but it's quite easy. The steps are laid out here, and take just a few minutes to follow.

I used the most crude tools: an awl from my toolbox, some masonry line and an oversized needle I happened to have laying around. Here's some action shots:

Even with the crude instruments, I ended up with a perfectly usable notebook. Sewing was definitely faster than trying to hand place staples.

While considering my new sketchpad I realized that it had one obvious shortcoming: without a hard cover, it wasn't easy to draw on unless I had a hard surface to rest it on. In other words, this notebook worked great for drawing my breakfast, but probably wouldn't be ideal for on scene sketching.

As a work around, I grabbed an old 3 ring binder that wasn't being used. I measured it for the size of the notebook and sliced it to size. I then put some duct tape on the edges. See:

The 3-ring binder cover had a slot for holding sheets of paper, which I re-purposed to hold the sketchbook. The result is that I can stuff the sketchbook into this pocket, and then fit both items into my man-bag.

I've now got a perfectly functional, extra low stress, drawing setup. All I need is the time to put it to use.

A Week of Art Before Breakfast

As I mentioned previously, Danny Gregory's Art Before Breakfast starts with a week's worth of drawing exercises. And without further ado, here's what I produced over that "week" (I fudged it a bit, and did Saturday and Sunday's drawings on Monday and Tuesday):

In many respects, I'm seeing these drawings for the first time myself. One of Danny's bits of advice is to finish the drawing and immediately turn the page. The worst thing you can do is dwell on how badly you flubbed a drawing. And so after every drawing, that's exactly what I did. To keep myself from cheating, I used a binder clip to both mark my place and keep me from browsing previous days. Here's how every day started:

And so when I look at these drawings, I'm actually quite pleased. I'm also a bit surprised. I attempted to draw our library two different times, and both attempts came out more or less the same.

While Art Before Breakfast would like to teach you to draw better, that doesn't strike me as its primary objective. Instead, it's making two key claims: first, that drawing has huge benefits. For example, you'll see details around you that you never noticed,or you'll experience the same joy of flow that comes with meditation or Yoga. Second that you can gain these benefits even if you don't think you have the skills or time.

In many respects, my little week of drawing supports these claims. While some of the drawings were frustrating to make, other's surprised me with how enjoyable they were. In a few cases, the exercise called for just drawing the outline of a scene, and I found myself itching to fill in the details (versus, say, itching to burn the sketchbook).

Perhaps the best example of Art Before Breakfast influencing me is this little sketch here:

I made this sketch in my notepad while waiting in my car for an appointment to start. I stated by just drawing the stop sign in front of me, and before I knew it I was filling in the details of the scene around it. And just like that, the 10 minutes I could have frittered away on YouTube, was spent creating something.

Before you rush off and buy Art Before Breakfast, assuming it will unlock your inner art genius, there's a few things you should know.

First, most of the advice in the book I'd already picked up from Gregory or others. Still, it's impressive to see what effectively took me years to catalog, splayed out in a couple of pages.

And second, I found the emphasis on trying to make art in just a few minutes to be stress inducing in its own right. I've learned that step one of making a drawing needs to be having a internal discussion: what am I actually seeing here?. If I feel like I've got just a couple of minutes to get the drawing done, that critical step gets thrown out.

I'm not quite sure where I'm going to go from here. But I've got an empty sketchbook, a pen and a world class cheerleader in Danny Gregory; what else could you ask for?