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Dit is een concertinaboekje dat ik maakte in 2015. Ik neem je mee door het werkproces. Zit je met vragen? Stel ze gerust. Ik antwoord met veel plezier! Onderaan vind je de tekst die me inspireerde om dit boekje te ik beginnen.
This is a concertinabook that I made in 2015. I will go through the working process with you. I'd be happy to answer any questions you have! At the bottom you 'll find the full text that inspired me for making this booklet.
This is a concertinabook that I made in 2015. I will go through the working process with you. I'd be happy to answer any questions you have! At the bottom you 'll find the full text that inspired me for making this booklet.
I found this beautiful text and started writing it in the left upper corner of my new concertina book. I think it was a good idea to save out a round space in the block and paint the pale blue dot that represents our big small world.
Then, I added a bigger illustration of the earth. In four concentric circles, I drew the names of well-known people of the world of music, science, arts and politics. I made a mixture of good and bad people because together they make our world.
After that, I drew the hand, a typical illustration from palmistry. I also filled in the small space between text block and the earth illustration with yellow lettering.
Now I needed something to put underneath the text block and I wanted some heavy letterforms in contrast with the light weight text block. I drew the first 6 letters of 'universe' and then put a big sideways S behind to fill in the remaining space. I used gouache in two different shades of grey.
There was still some space underneath 'univers', perfect for I looked for some lyrics with a connection to the whole: "I might be born too late, or in a country with different light, I always feel a little lost, though the mirror shows my face..." from a song by Ramses Shaffy, Dutch singer. The final touch was the date indication 'made in 2015'.
Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space by Carl Sagan.
“Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there - on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam. The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand. It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.”
“Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there - on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam. The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand. It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.”
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In december 2015 vertelde ik al over de verzameling pennen die ik cadeau kreeg van mijn broer, die ze in 1989 in London kocht op de uitverkoop van Philip Poole's pennenwinkel. De voorbije maand ben ik dagelijks bezig geweest met het bekijken (met loep), sorteren en tekenen van pennen. In mijn schetsboek en op losse stukjes papier. Het leuke is dat heel veel van die pennen een naam dragen. Er zijn bijvoorbeeld de Rob Roy pen en de Dickens pen, de golden shoulder pen en de silver swan pen. Mijn bedoeling om een werkstuk over pennen te maken is ondertussen geslaagd en zal binnenkort te zien zijn op een tentoonstelling in Brugge. Volgende week post ik hier meer info.
In December 2015, I already told you about the collection of pens I received as a gift from my brother. He bought them in London in 1989 on the sale of Philip Poole's pen shop. The past month I daily have been viewing (with magnifier), sorting and drawing pens. In my sketchbook and on scraps of paper. The nice thing is that many of these pens have a name. For example, there are the Rob Roy pen and Dickens pen, the golden shoulder pin and the silver swan pen. I have succeeded in my intention to make a final piece of work that will soon be exhibited in Bruges. I'll give all information next week.
In December 2015, I already told you about the collection of pens I received as a gift from my brother. He bought them in London in 1989 on the sale of Philip Poole's pen shop. The past month I daily have been viewing (with magnifier), sorting and drawing pens. In my sketchbook and on scraps of paper. The nice thing is that many of these pens have a name. For example, there are the Rob Roy pen and Dickens pen, the golden shoulder pin and the silver swan pen. I have succeeded in my intention to make a final piece of work that will soon be exhibited in Bruges. I'll give all information next week.
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Een tekening uit mijn schetsboek uit 2010. Dit is een afbeelding op een marmeren plaat van een blazende man, te zien in Rome op de Piazza di San Pietro. De achtergrond heb ik zelf verzonnen.
A drawing from my sketchbook from 2010. This is a figure on a marble slab of a blowing man, seen in Rome on the Piazza di San Pietro. The background is fictional.
A drawing from my sketchbook from 2010. This is a figure on a marble slab of a blowing man, seen in Rome on the Piazza di San Pietro. The background is fictional.
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Dit ontwerp dateert van enkele jaren geleden en was in de vergeethoek beland. Van de vlugge schets van de tekst was - en ben ik - niet tevreden. Die moet dus opnieuw. De letters zijn te zwaar in vergelijking van de tekening. Begin volgend jaar, na de feesten, werk ik alles af.
This drawing dates from a few years ago and had fallen into oblivion. I'm not at all happy with the sketch of the text. Lettering is too heavy in comparison with the drawing. Early next year, after New Year receptions, I hope to finish the whole.
This drawing dates from a few years ago and had fallen into oblivion. I'm not at all happy with the sketch of the text. Lettering is too heavy in comparison with the drawing. Early next year, after New Year receptions, I hope to finish the whole.
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Voorontwerp voor opdracht. Ik gebruikte een fijne blauwe stift van MICRON 005 die ik enkele jaren geleden ontving in een goodie bag toen ik les gaf in Portland, Oregon. Helaas was het stiftje leeg voor ik het ontwerp af kon maken.
Prelemenary sketch for commission. I used a blue fineliner MICRON 005 which I got in a goodie bag when I was teaching in Portland, Oregon some years ago. As you can see, I couldn't finish the sketch because the fineliner was empty.
Prelemenary sketch for commission. I used a blue fineliner MICRON 005 which I got in a goodie bag when I was teaching in Portland, Oregon some years ago. As you can see, I couldn't finish the sketch because the fineliner was empty.
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