Two summers ago, I bought a new iPad. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it because, frankly, I’ve spent a long time drawing in a sketchbook with pens and brushes and the idea of making digital art seemed kind of icky.
But the Apple Pencil intrigued me, so I made it my summer project to learn to use it to make some art. I figured, worst case, I’d give up and just use it for Facebook and Netflix.
Continue reading “Me, myself and iPad.”
I am trying out micro-blogging on Instagram while I travel through Europe (Amsterdam, London, Paris, Bretagne) for a couple of months. I’m trying to draw and write something pithy every day on IG and replicating the post on Facebook.
If you are interested in what I’m up to, follow me there: @dannyobadiah.
I know some people will not like this change but it’s the most efficient way for me to record what I’m doing and thinking without being dissuaded by the obstacles inherent in writing long blog posts here.
I’ll probably switch back once I get home, but I didn’t want you to think I’ve succumbed on one of my usual periods of indolence.
See you on the ‘Gram.
Dear Abby. Jimmy Breslin. Dave Barry. And now me…. columnist!
My first piece appeared in the current issue of Artist Magazine. And I just got the galley of the next one. Next I can get a press card for my fedora and start drinking bourbon while pounding the keys.
Get me rewrite!
Continue reading “Lifelong dream achieved.”
I’m on the new episode of the Inspiration Place podcast.
I am on a new episode of the great podcast, The Savvy Painter.
My grandmother won prizes for her gorgeous chrysanthemums. She had a huge rose garden that was designed like a Persian Carpet. She had two full time gardeners who kept her topiaries trimmed and her lawns like billiard tables. She taught me to love making things grow and to respect the endless powers of Nature.
One of her pet peeves: “Why must Americans call it ‘dirt’? It’s soil. It’s earth. It’s not dirty. It’s wonderful.”
Last week, I thought about her often as we watched a wonderful film about turning dirt into magic. The Biggest Little Farm is a documentary about the Chesters, a cooking blogger and a filmmaker, who worked for eight years to transform a mistreated farm into a Garden of Eden.
Continue reading “How to grow healthy.”
Last week, I spent a lot of time watching Floridians. There were a fair number of geezers in golfing shirts and slow-moving Cadillacs, but the most interesting creatures by far were the birds. Limpkins, buntings, grackles, curlews, grebes, plovers, loons and whipoorwills.
I love watching birds, even in New York where you mainly run across grayer species likes sparrows and pigeons. The park across the street is home to doves, starlings and the occasional woodpecker but the most exciting are the red-tailed hawks who nest on the top floor of the NYU library. They hunt in the morning and at dusk, usually pigeons, squirrels and rats, but rumor has it they show up with the occasional tabby. I always used to worry they’d snatch our miniature dachshunds and try to fly off with them while I gripped the leash like a kite string.
Continue reading “How to see dinosaurs.”
Last week we went to Florida and basically sat on our pasty butts by the pool, guzzled cheap beer, ate fish, read books, played cards, and napped.
Continue reading “What I did on vacation.”
This is a photo of a life-changing moment. I took it on November 23, 2013 at 4:23 PM. I had posted on FaceBook that I was going to be speaking at a conference in Amsterdam and Koosje Koene invited me to tea when I was in town. We’d never met in person, only online and we were both a little nervous at meeting a total stranger.
I’m glad we did. Well, that’s an incredible understatement. That glass of tea led to lots of emails to a business idea to our first kourse …. to over five years of SketchBook Skool.
Continue reading “The power of a glass of tea.”
I was working at my desk when the news flashed on the screen. Notre Dame was burning. The videos and pictures were heart-stopping and across the world we were joined by a sense of helplessness as a thousand years of history and culture exploded in flames. I had visions of a charred wreck left to hulk on the Seine, a post-modern monument to human fragility surrounded by rioting yellow vests. The toppling spire sparked a deep sense of dread in me, that our civilization itself was toppling, that our history was being erased, that humanity was all too vulnerable, that I too would soon be forgotten dust.
Twenty-four hours later, the fire was out, the damage assessed. It was extensive but appears confined to the roof. I read with relief that the cathedral had been heavily damaged and rebuilt several other times in its long history, and by day’s end almost a billion dollars had been raised to start the restoration. Within a day, we had gone from annihilation to resiliency to the Mueller report. Next.
Continue reading “How to handle perspective.”