Original, "The Red and the Blue", key colors of key countries. Original digital art using Adobe Illustrator and Photoshop. With the advent of digitization, the artwork leaves the canvas or the picture plane, at least as a point of origin. Large printers called plotters can make the work as large as a billboard and the picture plane, canvas or anything else, becomes the "substrate" that is printed on. Otherwise, the finished work is viewed on monitors or LCD plasma screens or whatever else comes along.
The song was written by me in Paris in 1980, called: "The Red and the Blue".
Paul A. L. Hall
paulhallart.com
Friday, April 3, 2015
Canyon City, Chilkoot Trail.
Canyon City was the first outpost along the Chilkoot Trail, near Dyea, Alaska. The trail was originally blazed by the native American Tlingit peoples and used by the miners of the 1898 gold rush to get to the waterways in Canada that would take them to Dawson, a volcanic area where to this day there is gold to be had.
The Chilkoot Trail is about thirty miles long, but I only had enough time to get to Canyon City and back, an overnighter. I traveled light, only a child's book bag pack on my back with a large plastic jar of peanut butter, a quart of water and an aluminum blanket.
There is a self-portrait in the series, as I take a picture of a moth on the water of a huge beaver pond, also seen is my reflection.
I rescued the moth and it survived, you'll be glad to know.
I was told later on that the Red Onion Saloon, seen in the series, was dismantled and taken to Skagway, where it is a landmark 1898 relic on Second Avenue and Broadway.
More on www.paulhallart.com
The Chilkoot Trail is about thirty miles long, but I only had enough time to get to Canyon City and back, an overnighter. I traveled light, only a child's book bag pack on my back with a large plastic jar of peanut butter, a quart of water and an aluminum blanket.
There is a self-portrait in the series, as I take a picture of a moth on the water of a huge beaver pond, also seen is my reflection.
I rescued the moth and it survived, you'll be glad to know.
I was told later on that the Red Onion Saloon, seen in the series, was dismantled and taken to Skagway, where it is a landmark 1898 relic on Second Avenue and Broadway.
More on www.paulhallart.com
The Time Bends in the Distance (available in 3D) - Song and digital art ...
One of my songs played on my old 12-string Takimine in a garage in Bethel, Connecticut in '78 about my constant travels as a poor man.
-- This video is 3-D capable. Just click the "change quality" feature at the bottom of the video frame (the "gear" icon), then click the 3D icon when it appears to get the setting that matches your glasses. No glasses? Click on the "no glasses" link and then look at the 2 images in the video cross-eyed until a 3rd appears in the center. --
-- The visual is some digital art I did in Carlsbad California in 2004. Digital art is the aardvark in the bark, you quark. -- about ten variations on a work called "Bemtmationationallee", done in Carlsbad, California back in 2004.
The original folk song by me, "The Time Bends in the Distance" is the theme song for my anthology, "Archives of Time and Distance". Written in Montpelier, at about six in the morning, at a local cafe, way back in 1980.
Almost all my 1980 songs were written in cafes, where I joked that my breakfast was an espresso and a bic pen.
Paul A. L. Hall
paulhallart.com
-- This video is 3-D capable. Just click the "change quality" feature at the bottom of the video frame (the "gear" icon), then click the 3D icon when it appears to get the setting that matches your glasses. No glasses? Click on the "no glasses" link and then look at the 2 images in the video cross-eyed until a 3rd appears in the center. --
-- The visual is some digital art I did in Carlsbad California in 2004. Digital art is the aardvark in the bark, you quark. -- about ten variations on a work called "Bemtmationationallee", done in Carlsbad, California back in 2004.
The original folk song by me, "The Time Bends in the Distance" is the theme song for my anthology, "Archives of Time and Distance". Written in Montpelier, at about six in the morning, at a local cafe, way back in 1980.
Almost all my 1980 songs were written in cafes, where I joked that my breakfast was an espresso and a bic pen.
Paul A. L. Hall
paulhallart.com
"'Cross North America Wide" - An Alaska/Florida drive -- Paul A. L. Hall...
Full Album. My 15th Symphony with an about 200-photo slide show of my trip by way of Alaska over through Canada to Seattle and then across the States on I 90 to North Dakota and then south through Iowa and Indiana to the East Coast, through Georgia to Florida. The photos show the drought of 2012, including parched corn fields and extensive wild fires. A couple of picks of Canada's new Alpine Highway, a dual super highway in the mountains, one of the most beautiful I've seen or driven.
Moon River by Henry Mancini (cover and digital art by Paul Hall of paulhallart)
Regarding art, classical or modern, we have to step back a bit. We must somehow come to terms with acknowledging our primitive side.
Let's look at the timelessness of art: it really boils down to 2 camps: the hustlers and the real thing. The real thing is actually more like medicine for the human condition.
The hustler is the opportunist who milks it for all it's worth, kind of like the forger who could have been a brilliant artist but instead makes a bundle copying someone else. The real artist works really, really hard at it and in a way, doesn't think too much about remuneration, but rather that he or she is providing something absolutely essential; filling a gap.
My "modern" work and my "classical" work both get stolen on occasion. I did them because I felt driven. It felt like a driving instinct to provide something missing from the human equation ...
Let's look at the timelessness of art: it really boils down to 2 camps: the hustlers and the real thing. The real thing is actually more like medicine for the human condition.
The hustler is the opportunist who milks it for all it's worth, kind of like the forger who could have been a brilliant artist but instead makes a bundle copying someone else. The real artist works really, really hard at it and in a way, doesn't think too much about remuneration, but rather that he or she is providing something absolutely essential; filling a gap.
My "modern" work and my "classical" work both get stolen on occasion. I did them because I felt driven. It felt like a driving instinct to provide something missing from the human equation ...
Thursday, April 2, 2015
"Deesdoi" (Planet Mercury) - Native American Flute
So the children of the Ice Walker found Deesdoi by walking away from the desolate places (Ice Age Mongolia) -- and so they walked until they found the warm place as those faithful to the vision passed on, "Those Who Honor the Walker Legend", until "The End of Land" (Tierra del Fuego) ...
"Deesdoi" Navajo: "Hot Place": A view of planet Mercury from the satellite "Messenger" in orbit around it (also an original melody by Paul Hall on Native American Flute) ...
"Deesdoi" Navajo: "Hot Place": A view of planet Mercury from the satellite "Messenger" in orbit around it (also an original melody by Paul Hall on Native American Flute) ...
The Predators of Man -- real or not, they exist.
What's out there is not the question. How indeed does one distinguish between the paranormal and paranoia? For the most part, let's face it. People just don't want to know. And so very few really do, and most of them who are in the know are taken with a grain of salt. But, in fact, if you're going to take an honest look at the actual phenomenon of the fact that mankind itself has predators—then, in many if not most cases, you're going to have to look farther than a normal perceivable environment in which mankind presently finds itself.
You then will also have to take into account the fact that some of your observations will only be paranoia, as the examination of one's predators can often be extremely terrifying, especially considering that many of the real predators that are not fantasies of paranoia cannot be perceived by the senses and can only be observed by the effects of their actions or the "traces" or clues left behind.
Add to all that the simple reality that a lot that pertains to the unknown quantities of the predators of man is virtually beyond the human being's grasp of understanding as well as the fact that almost all biological beings on the face of the Earth are controlled in one way or another so that no human can be assured protection from predators—add all that to the equation and you might not be surprised that the average person quite honestly just doesn't want to know.
The intention is not to enter into an exercise of futility. Bemoaning realities which we humans aren't even psychologically equipped to handle. Much more rather, it is perhaps the beginning of an effort to take reliable measures that will assure that the predators of man nevermore emerge in the first place.
Alright. Let me toss out a phrase for you. "Abuse of mercantile freedom". Sound familiar? No? Here's another one: "Inordinate success attracts predation".
Look in the lessons of recorded history and you will find the phenomenon of the secular trend of it's upheavals, often occurring as violent and massive carnage. You may think the next round won't get you; that you're out of the loop as it were. But think again. We are dealing with something so bizarre and unimaginable that only an abstract expressionist could envision it. Or perhaps the not so abstract expressionist, such as the artists of the orient that envisioned dragons, or the peoples of some wilderness whose collective sub-conscious depicted horrific creatures. They would know, as they are the only ones with time and silence to ponder the true dilemma of so successful a creature as man.
The people are really never going to have elections that will select the proper leadership over them. First of all it's well established the very poor track record that majorities have had throughout mankind's tenure. Next, most elections are Banana Republic style, probably rigged or maybe even won by default like the last presidential one in this country that was decided by the Supreme Court.
So the only truly fair election is that which inevitably is decided by default but of the higher order far beyond any court of man's law. The flow is almost as regular as the tide: freedom, abuse, dictatorship, empire. And that is the only true election. The majority votes by it's behavior. The crime gets committed and the criminal gets busted by an empire. That is the pattern of history.
But I don't see it as human beings controlling other human beings. Mankind was perhaps fortunate in that the Third Reich happened at a time when the predators of man could only find Adolph when they were looking for some fresh meat to personify their actions. What if they had found another Alexander? What if they had found a professional soldier capable of swaying masses to commit acts of suicide as well as commanding a war on two fronts?
Now let's bring it up to the present. Yes, I'm afraid my analogy fits. There has been a massive abuse of mercantile freedom on a global scale this time. And that calls for a global emperor and his predatory masters, real or not. The predation need not be even so much as a reality. That's the shocking part. The saber-toothed tiger fifty miles tall or the fire-breathing napalm spitting flying dragon need only be the reality of collective thought patterns in massive numbers of human minds fulfilling some sort of terminal pattern.
We are trying to attempt to comprehend something we don't have the intelligence to realize exists, whatever form it may take. I'm trying to get to some point, like the narrator in H.G. Well's "War of the Worlds", where you and I, hopefully, won't become just another statistic for which any who temporarily survive will have run out of body bags to handle. And even if we should go, at least it would be with some comprehension of what it is evoking such massive carnage.
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