In a post on March 18, I reported that artist David Hockney was using his iPhone and a software application called Brushes to paint some exquisite pictures. Yesterday, I discovered that they’re rife. A generation of iPhone painters is turning up everywhere. For those of you who would like to see one at work, the New Yorker website offers videos of Jorge Colombo’s brushwork as he goes about creating New Yorker covers. Mostly paintings from the streets of New York, the process is fascinating to watch. Almost as interesting is an article from the British Daily Mail (mail online) that shows the work of several iPhone artists and their comments on using Brush.
I was eager to share that information but it’s not the only topic of this post. I’m going to do something quite different today, and all because, in the process of changing out some bookcases, I discovered a booklet I hadn’t seen in years. My impulse was to share it, and what better place than here? It’s from one of the finest writers I’ve ever known, an unpublished one, and one my age.
Decades ago, in the city of New York, my friend SallyLevy, who has a love of words that’s quite wonderful, mixed it up and made a small book for my birthday, almost a throwaway – a nonsense garden book, perhaps – at any rate, a book where words rubbed up against each other and with some graceful drawings, produced something charming, surprising, quite silly and, occasionally, even revealing. Over the next few posts, I will conclude with pages from this slender volume.
Sally worked with markers and a book of 5” x 8 1/2” file cards, and given her total panic around anything high-tech, she’d use the same tools today. (And on rare occasions does.) She certainly wouldn’t go near an iPhone or the application, Brush.
Art comes from every direction and always will.
The Roon Book of Wild Stuffs (1982)