This Is A Logo, Or "tag" If You Will, That I Made For Myself A Little While Back When I Really Started
This is a logo, or "tag" if you will, that I made for myself a little while back when I really started into experimenting with physical mediums of visual art. When I tell people what I do, though, they ask where they can see my work, and I've never really had a good answer. It only seems right that this should be that place. Because this blog is ArtificeLux...
So there it is: this blog stretches back to a time I don't even recognize sometimes, but let's call this the beginning...
More Posts from Artificelux and Others
This was a fun little experiment... I was trying to get better at sketching, so I told myself I was going to sketch something everyday, no matter what, no matter how I felt. It's always good to just make yourself do something, even when you don't have the motivation.
What ended up happening, however, was I started drawing silly little robots. I have a few of these guys that, collectively, I've taken to calling "The Robots of Whimsy."
This happy little fellow, I like to call Hippo_bot_amus.
Origami Stained Glass.
Scattered Song.
Hello Again. (Yesterday's was the last of the "out-of-chronology" entries. Now we're back to newer stuff.)
Beginning of a Totally Unrelated-to-Anything Scene
The place was called “Executive Hotel”—it took a conscious effort to keep from thinking what sort of low-life executive would choose to stay in such a pisspot. It looked more like a prison compound than the “Most Comfortable Stay,” as the sign out front bragged. Sleeping beneath an overpass might have been better.
White paint peeled from the exterior walls, streaking the dingy surface with scars of brown. Either it was the paint peeling to reveal half-rotted wood beneath, or it was mildew caused by some awful roof runoff. I was certain to stay far enough away so the distinction couldn’t be made. And the cars parked in the lot were in much the same condition, nearly every one of them a beater joint fit to throw a piston and clatter to a stop at any moment. Paint jobs all dull tans, beiges, and sickly olive greens—or at least they had been, before the rust had begun to corrode the old steel frames—did nothing to improve my already low opinion of this fine establishment.
It was enough to make a man rethink the choices he had made in his life. And as the shoddy suspension of my loaner car—only earlier that day, I had saved it from the scrapper with a quick exchange of five, crisp one hundred dollar bills—bounced over the broken cracks of the uneven lot, rolling like a drunken mule into the space outlined by two non-existent yellow stripes, I found myself doing exactly that...
Everyday Brutalism
(Photo by ArtificeLux)
Back to taking about the book!
Check it out below:
•2BRTL•
Mixing up more digital concrete, this time paired with a pop of 80s color blocking.
