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12-31-01
We cross country skied yesterday
at Paradise on Mt. Rainier. My climbing friend M came along
with his son and Lisa brought her girlfriend A. Carving
telemark turns through the crusty snow was challenging,
but the excellent views made it all worthwhile. Lisa is
beginning to show some grace on skinny skis, not surprising
considering she has been following us for 10 years. She
and her girlfriend were tireless, climbing up the hills
and racing down to the inevitable headplants. Unlike the
packed and
groomed downhill areas, falling was painless through the
thin crust into the deep powder below. The skiing was tricky
due to the unpredictability of the crust. At certain speeds,
the skis would float above it, but if you let your guard
down, the tips would submerge, inviting a tumble.
I felt sorry for M and his
son, who were new to skinny skiing and struggled with the
bad conditions. Still, they did get to see the mountain
in all it's winter splendor, something we have gone all
winter without seeing in the past. In a few weeks we may
meet M and his son for night skiing at a downhill area where
I can combine three different kinds of skiing in one night:
cross country, downhill and snowboarding. M has offered
to pay me back for the cross country lesson with some tips
on one of his extra snowboards.
I did a really cool interface today
at work. I usually suck on Mondays, but this morning I started
fresh on a new idea patterned after the interface at apple.com.
I learned the technique in the "WOW"  PhotoShop
book. All my practice over the last month or two at interface
design seemed to come together on a morning when my mind
was sharp as a razor. I had a very pretty interface sixty
percent complete in a few hours. I took a few breaks working
on some other projects, but by quitting time I had it looking
so good I didn't want to leave. I designed some rollover
links that turn the transparent plastic to molten red neon.
After I pay some bills I plan to spend the rest of my extra
day off working on my new still life painting.
12-28-01
Have you seen any of the new online journals called "bloggs"? I read about them in a magazine my dad saves for me called On Magazine. I've also heard the term mentioned hear and there on the net. You can go to a web site called blogger.com and read all about it. I didn't read much on the site, but the concept appears to let average Joe's, who don't know html, to post instant entries in online journals with the ease of a simple email. I suppose this will start a new rash of online journalers. I still have moments when keeping up with this journal seems like an intrusion. When I have limited spare time, like after work, my attitude about this journal comes down to a simple concept: I can write about life, or I can live it.
I've had a new still life going out in the garage all week. It's the same duck, turban squash and antique whiskey bottle, but I've rearranged them and added a lemon. I also feel confident enough to move up to a bigger sheet of paper - 10x15 inches. When I am rusty, I like to paint on the tiniest sheet of paper I can frame, 7x10. That was the size of most of Turner's watercolors, and if it was good enough for him, it's good enough for me. Still lifes are usually bought for the kitchen anyway, where the hanging space is smaller. At least that is what several of my collectors told me when they paid for their paintings. A hundred and fifty years ago, that was a very typical painting size. Artists had to carry their completed paintings with them on horseback, or in small suitcases in stagecoaches. Larger unsold paintings weren't practical to carry around. Of course, I only paint that small when I am feeling rusty, and don't want to be intimidated by my standard size, which is 15x20, 4 times larger.
At work I've been doing a lot of interface design. I heard that one of my interfaces got the nod this week. I haven't officially heard yet, but if it's true, it will be fun to pour in the real content. Today I put the finishing touches on my best one yet. It has a lot of the new texture effects and patterns one sees on the more sophisticated sites. I used a lot of grids and pattern fills overlaid with gradient masks. PhotoShop can be a pretty cool tool.
12-23-01
It was a sunny day today, but I stayed home to rest my tired knees. I rode twice during the week in the blustery weather, and Friday night, Sue said clearing weather was forecasted. Clearing cool weather, I remembered, after a week of cold rain makes for perfect skiing conditions in the mountains. I mentioned a spur of the moment ski trip to Sue, who threw up her hands in despair. She doesn't like surprises, but after some thought, and careful persuasion, warmed to the idea. Lisa found a girlfriend brave enough to try cross-country skiing and we had an adventure planned.
We had tantalizing glimpses of the mountain on the drive up yesterday. It looked beautiful again for the first time in 4 months. All the dirty rock and glaciers exposed by the water shortage were covered with 10 feet of new snow. The sky overhead and toward the East was clear bright blue, but the sky to the West had an ugly smudge of dark gray on the horizon with long tendrils shaded blue to orange stretching across the sky toward Mt Rainier. Driving Southwest over the 50 winding miles to our destination, the 5400 foot high ski area known as Paradise, the slender elongated clouds reached further and further across the sky until they wrapped their gossamer hands around the glaciated peak, hiding it from view. I drove cautiously up the compact snow and ice of the last few miles and the mountain graciously allowed us a few more full frontal views before the cloud closed in at the 12000 foot level. We had a little more energy on this, our second trip of the year, skiing steady for 3 hours. I enjoy introducing beginners to skinny skiing, but it can be stressful, watching them master the strange motions, worrying if they are staying warm and having fun. It's a guessing game knowing how far we can take them out into the backcountry without making them too tired to ski back. There is no ski patrol out in the back country, no chairlifts; nothing in fact but miles and miles of snow covered mountains and glaciers. Ever since Lisa was 5 we've taken the kids with us. Gone are the days when Sue and I could ski the long, steep backcountry routes, trusting our navigation skills, avalanche training and intimate knowledge of the country to get us safely back to the car. For the last 16 years we've stayed within a few miles of the lodge, skiing the same trusted trails and snow covered roads.
We skied underneath a long avalanche slope cut with matching figure eight ski tracks. I could see the snow was in great condition, but had left my climbing skins home to save weight. Later we played around above the parking lot, getting in few turns. It was a decent day, but today I am feeling the strain of an active week. I have another still life started out in the garage, but spent the day repairing my ski pole baskets. When Sue first taught me to ski, she was still using some antique bamboo ski poles, the kind with the 7 inch leather and bamboo baskets. When they finally broke for good, I looked around for big ski pole baskets and came up dry. I make them now from scratch, and even sold them for a few years until I realized I couldn't begin to charge enough to cover my labor.
I like making things with my hands. One of the few things I miss about the printing business is the feeling of satisfaction I used to get from the skill in my hands. People who work with their hands rarely get paid what they are worth, with the exception of high end professions like surgeons. Speaking of working with my hands, I think it's time I headed out to the easel.
12-21-01
In honor of the holidays, and since I want to go out to the garage and paint, I am going to cheat and post my generic "Dear Uncle" xmas letter here:
~*~
Dear Uncle Dan and Aunt Nita,
It was nice to get your letter. I notice you don’t have an email address, so I guess you haven’t jumped on the internet bandwagon. It’s nice to know there are a few of you old dinosaurs out there. Dad hasn’t done email much either. He has problems with his old phone lines.
As you’ve probably heard from my parents, I have been working in high tech now as a web designer for a year. It’s quite a bit like the printing business, except now, instead of making something look pretty on a printing press, I make it look pretty on a computer screen. My attention to detail, work ethic and generally positive attitude, all things I brought with me from printing, continue to serve me well in my new career. It’s been scary watching our business fall off in the recession, but so far there haven’t been any layoffs in our little shop of 12 people. I am gradually learning to apply my creative skills to the computer screen. Computer art is basically abstract art, something I’ve never liked. But I persevere and hope to “get it” eventually. Most of my job is writing computer code for web pages, so I don’t usually have to use my pure art skills, which are in their infancy (digital art).
I still paint (with real paints), although picking it back up after that hard year in college took a long time. Just this last two weeks I finished a nice little still life out in the garage. As soon as I completed it, I started a new one with a slightly different arrangement of the turban squash and vases. It’s lots of fun to have a nice painting in progress out in the garage. No matter what happens during the day at work, I know that I can slip out to the garage after dinner and spend several pleasurable hours painting. I feel very lucky to have the talent for such a cool hobby. Not only do I get the pleasure of creating it, but once I tire of it, I may be able to sell it.
Art is still my retirement plan, since my jobs so far have been zeros in that regard. Clint is bigger than me now by a good 20 pounds, all muscle. Lisa's growing up far to fast, and is taller than her mother. They both are doing better than we did in school, so perhaps they won’t be quite so poor when they're our age. We get by, though sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever get ahead of the bills. My new career may take off if the economy turns around. There is a lot of money in the advertising business. I’ve been told I have an aptitude for it, although there are days when I hunger for a simple old fashioned stack of paper to run through a printing press.
Lisa plays soccer in several leagues and has been lucky to play on unbeaten teams with her girlfriends. Clint rides his BMX bicycle for fun when he isn’t doing homework or working part time at a nearby plant nursery. He is driving now and seems to have picked up our good driving habits.
I hope the holidays treat you well,
Mark Webster
~*~
12-16-01
Ten, Nine, Eight...the crowd roared as the clock on the score board ticked off the last seconds in the hotly contested soccer match, tied at 7 to 7. Despite my major attitude about the losers who peretuate the infamous "soccer mom" myth, I found myself silently rooting for Lisa's unbeaten team. Sue, sitting beside me was uncharacteristically screaming with the crowd as the ball was kicked, thrown and head butted from net to net in the space of seconds. Neither team was giving an inch and both had their best goalies in place. For 14 year olds, the goalies moved with lighting speed, arms and legs blocking the ball faster than the eye could follow.
I've only watched a handful of games in the 4 years Lisa has been playing. I made a couple games in her first year, but was disgusted by the behavior of some of the parents. The "soccer mom" (and dad) behavior is so common and well known that I won't go into it here. I think the saying, "Get a Life!" covers it. Still, the kids love the game and I am glad Sue has the energy to devote to Lisa's hobby. She did the same for Clint when he was into karate, and still drives him around to BMX sessions. It really helps that she gets off work at 3:30. I'd gotten sucked into watching this game because we were out looking for some new brakes for my 10 speed, and Sue didn't have time to drop me off at home before the game started.
I also object to spectator sports, even if its my own kids, simply on the grounds that I am envious. It's great that they are having fun with their friends and getting a workout.
But watching them do it just isn't my cup of tea. I'd rather be doing something myself, like painting, or getting some exercise.  I think far too many people have fallen into the trap of watching, instead of doing. The waistlines of America are proof.
At the 5 second mark, the ball shot down toward the "enemy" net. Someone kicked it hard, missing the net by 6 inches and it bounced back into play. Our guys kicked it down the indoor soccer court towards our goal in less than two seconds, and as the crowd roared, the ball caroomed around the end zone, bouncing off the walls and the players tangled legs. With three seconds to go, one of the girls kicked the ball out of the knot of players toward the net. I couldn't see the goalie, but saw the net shake and realized that Lisa's team had finished the regular season again, unbeaten.
I've made great progress on my still life. It's brought me so much pleasure I hate to call it done. I think I'll tinker for a few more hours before I start another one.
12-14-01
Tonight my boss offered me a shot of expensive whiskey an hour before quitting time. I objected on the grounds that I didn't think I could work and drink at the same time. He suggested a small glass and I agreed. "Just enough so I can savor the flavor", I said. We are a little slower than I like, but I stay occupied. I finished another interface, saved it to the vault and started in on a new one. I've also been doing a lot of testing on a huge Flash/Visual Basic application that occupies our Flash wizard. He programs it, then hands it off to one of us for testing. We send him the bug list and the cycle begins again.
Every night after dinner I've been heading out to the garage
for a few hours at the easel. Usually I listen to a talking book while I paint, but last night Sue put on Christmas music and Lisa came out to sit across from me while I worked. I painted, we talked and listened to an old Elvis tape of holiday songs, it doesn't get much better than that around here. I love having a painting going. It's like falling in love again. No matter how bad the day goes, I have something all new and all mine at home to play with every night. You know how it feels when you bring home a brand spanking new computer or a cute little puppy? Every night you can't wait to get home to play with it. Well, having a hot painting on the easel is even better than that, plus it's free.
In keeping with my intention to list 5 things I am grateful for with each entry,here is my list for today:
- My hearing is perfect today, and I am symptom free
- My painting is almost done, I get to start another one
- The sun was out, I had a great bike ride at lunch
- My used Toyota is running like a top, 160,000 miles
- It's payday today for me, but 3000 people got pink slips at Boeing this morning
12-11-01
The dizzies hit me today. I felt a little off driving in, but after I sat down at my computer, it got worse. Thankfully I didn't get the spins and was able to keep working, although concentration was an effort. As I walked in I was thanking my lucky stars I didn't have to run around a printing press. I've never mentioned where I work here on this web site. But if you know, check out our site. We have recently switched over to .asp. Visit the special effects button. There is an awesome interactive 3d toy there.
I used to visit an online journal written by a doctor. She would describe her work and talk about her adventures hiking. What I liked best about her site (pulled down now) was her positive attitude. At the bottom of every entry, she would list 5 things she was happy about that day. I doubt if I can keep it up, but I'm going to start today and see what happens:
5 things I am grateful for today:
- This nagging dizzy disease has been mild since it returned last summer
- My wife is friendly
- I couldn't ask for smarter, healthier kids
- I'm painting again
- I'm working dayshift in a job with a future
12-9-01
I've been painting all weekend at the easel out in the garage. I took breaks of course; a trip to the library, finished a book, took a bike ride today, worked out on the weights and replaced a worn out rear tire on my bike. But the rest of the time, I sat on my second hand Goodwill stool with the duck taped foam cushion and lost myself in the mysteries of still life painting . It took quite a while to get the basic forms rendered accurately due to my atrophied drawing skills. After 4 days of drawing, erasing and redrawing, I had the black and white value study completed. This morning I began adding color. It's going quite well, especially considering how rusty I am. Ordinarily, I hate hanging around the house, but when I have a good painting going, I actually look forward to my time out in the garage, sitting quietly at my easel hour after hour. I know the term "zone" has been overused, but it is the only word that comes close to describing the feeling of working on a painting that is going well. Come to think of it, I think that is the sign of any true hobby: it grabs you so completely you lose track of time.
An especially touchy step for me has been the transition period from finished black and white value study to color. There is an awkward period, lasting anywhere from an hour to several hours where the painting changes from a simple value study to full color. I've ruined paintings in this critical period when I tried to take bold steps with color and lost track of the overall values. Color can overwhelm a careful underdrawing and bring the process to a screeching halt. I've learned to gently stroke in colors that are quite close in appearance to the black and white charcoal so as not to crash the painting. Despite my best efforts it's rare that I don't reach a point where I am certain I have ruined the piece. This scary moment always happens during the transition from black and white to color.
12-8-01
Company Christmas party last night. I think I can safely review it here, since I've never mentioned where I've worked on these pages. Creative types, and I use that term in its broader sense, are fun to party with. The partners who founded our firm know how to let their hair down. One of the gifts we gave to the "founding fathers" was a set of foul weather gear to our Flash guy. He is giving up his apartment to become a "live aboard" down in the yacht harbor. It was a simple little plastic wrapped package of bright yellow vinyl rain gear. Little did any of us expect that he would step into the bathroom and put it on. But suddenly, in the midst of the crowded office full of spouses, girlfriends and college buddies, out steps one of our most brilliant programmers poured into a pair of yellow vinyl bibs, several sizes too small. We're talking Michael Jackson skin tight. Everybody busted up and pointed, while he struck several poses in the bathroom doorway. Someone hollered for a camera and I dug mine out of my daypack for a couple quick shots. I was laughing so hard it was hard to hold the camera still.
I had a long conversation with one of our former customers, who is now freelancing as a graphic artist specializing in interactive design. His wife is a technical writer. The two of them exemplify the brilliant young
minds that keep the advertising world from going stale. They both have four year degrees, his in fine arts (pottery and printmaking) with a minor in graphic arts. He also worked for 6 years for an advertising agency which is when I met him. His ad agency used to bring jobs to my old print shop and the same customer from the same ad agency followed me to my web job. They were a tough, picky customer, no sloppy work allowed. I can't get away from these guys, I was thinking.
As we stood there talking about bringing our creative minds to work, and how the business world hates to admit they need people like us, it struck me how much we had in common. His wife, the technical writer, said that after a while, she began to see how all the creative aspects of design, whether it be writing, art, music or even dance have a common thread, a big picture as it were. As she spoke, her lovely, slender young hands formed a circle as she described the moment when she grasped the "whole", the larger picture. Her work became easier once she was able to see how everything involved in promoting a business was intertwined. I tried, I really tried to wrap my mind around the picture she painted, but all I could hear was the din of the crowd. They've been in the idea business much longer than I have so I may need to cut myself some slack.
I am several hours into a still life painting out in the garage.
Painting is a lovely way to spend time. Rather than pretty colored lights on a computer screen, I push real paint around on archival artists paper. If I make something pretty, it won't need a battery or an illuminated square of pixels to be viewed. Like the 10,000 year old cave paintings in France, it will exist on it's own merits. A person was here, his life was good, and he painted it. To have the gift to create art like that is not something to be taken lightly. I was talking to one of our programmers about how I was burning out, studying web design after work at home in a constant quest to improve my skills. He doesn't even have a computer at home, and his advice to me was, "If you have the talent to create real art, you should use it".
12-3-01
We skied at Mt Rainier yesterday in a snowstorm. Visibility was down to a couple hundred feet, which for Paradise in the winter is pretty good. We have been there when 12 feet was the best it got all day. In conditions like that, skiing is only possible if you have intimate knowledge of the terrain, a map, compass, altimeter and undersized forebrain. I was leading a small party of cross country skiers in white out conditions years ago,and calmly reassuring my friends that I knew precisely where we were as I stepped off a cliff. During the mid air fall, which lasted several long heartbeats, I had the time to realize that my navigation skills (and common sense) needed improvement. I landed on an almost vertical snow slope, starting a small avalanche. I heard shouting above, and found out later that my friend had been forced to physically restrain Sue, who wanted to jump after me, to help.
But yesterday, Sue, Lisa and I were able to ski without incident. We've been skiing there so long that we can stay out of trouble in any conditions. A big part of traveling safely in the backcountry is having enough common sense to know when to turn back.
We also took a couple avalanche seminars together which increased our safety margin tenfold. I felt sorry for a couple newbies who I saw holding a park printout of the summer trails. With the trails buried under 6 feet of snow, and visibility down to 200 feet, they weren't going too far. We were puzzled by the preponderance of snowshoers. For every cross country skier, we saw 20 snowshoers and snowboarders.
Sue and I used to snow shoe, especially when we were snow camping with heavy packs. But for fast and light day trips, snow shoes are a joke. Both snowshoers and cross country skiers go up hill at the same pace. But on the down hill run a skilled cross country skier will leave the plodding snowshoer in the dust. I think the key word here is "skilled". People aren't willing anymore to serve the long apprenticeship required to learn the "telemark" turn. It took me several years to master it with the help of my more gifted skiing partners, and there are times when I still struggle with it.
12-1-01
The power was knocked out by high wind an hour ago. I am typing by battery power on my laptop while the room is lit by a Coleman lantern hung outside the window. This used to happen several times a month until the power company began aggressively trimming branches during the summer. We still have eyebolts outside most of the windows in the house for hanging the Coleman. Too bad I forgot to buy a fresh gallon of white gas. I wonder if it would run on unleaded? Before we got our wood stove I remember one memorable week without power when we got out our mountaineering sleeping bags and camped out in the living room.
We've had the stove for 18 years now and it's been extremely handy during the storms. Today we drove up to REI where Sue got her first raincoat in 10 years. She's been making do with an umbrella around town, and avoiding low freezing levels on our skiing trips. She refuses to spend her own money on one, but I'd finally had enough of getting smacked in the face with her umbrella on our walks and bought one for her. The crowd at REI is aging along with Sue and I. REI was built by the boomers. I can remember being bug eyed at all the beauties up there in the early eighties. Now, they're all dried up and wrinkled like us. Even the healthy ones looked old, mountain sunlight and wind is harsh on skin.
I've decided to start a new still life out in the garage. My new flash intro is getting off to a slow start. I want to get my fingers dirty with some Real paint, not this digital stuff. I found a pretty turban squash at the grocery store that should go nicely with my favorite chrome duck.
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