I am happy to invite you to look at the current results of a creative collaboration with my friend Ron Huden, together we have formed Visualmyth Fabric. Our designs are for sale via Spoonflower, you can choose the type of fabric for the image to be printed on, and the amount of yards you want. The quality of the printing is excellent, Spoonflower produces and ships the fabric (worldwide) and handles the transaction as well. They print with waterbased inks using a digital printer so the images have a unique quality to them. The fabric is washable. Suitable for clothing and wall art, and many other ideas. We hope you enjoy seeing the designs and wearing them as well. Visit our website for updates and a video that celebrates the inspiration of fabric design as cultural communication over eons of time.
Aniakchak Bay, aboard the beach seiner Northern Seas, skipper Dick Sharp. Photograph by skiffman Shane Jewell. Many nautical miles from the "unplumbed profundity in the Sundam trench of the Pacific exceeding 8000 fathoms..."James Joyce.
Laura Castellanos, from her recent Seattle exhibit "Assorted Idols". Music by Parviz Yahaghi, Bahaneh (Shour). Visualmyth by Patrick Burke. Detail from "Bird On A Wire" charcoal, acrylic, latex and oil paint on drop cloth. 70 in x 50 in. by Laura Castellanos.
Trabant P-70 around the U.S. Capitol. "When does the greed stop?!" Excerpts from his Senate speech on January 26, 2007. Visualmyth © Patrick Burke.
Rijksmuseum and stand close to Rembrandt's paintings, I could feel his colors and brush marks warm my soul. Then I noticed a door on the side of the Rijksmuseum that turned out to be the library, by that time I had learned to be bold with the Dutch so I rang the bell and announced my intention of wanting to "research Rembrandt". The door opened and I talked to the person at the desk and mentioned that I was doing a screensaver for the Rembrandt Museum and needed to see more images, he pointed me to a shelf of books. Oh well, nothing too exciting here I thought as I looked through a couple of books. Then the fellow tapped me on the shoulder and motioned me to follow him down to the end of the long reading table where he had positioned a table easel, on the easel was a Rembrandt etching, "The Three Crosses" matted, no glass. "godverdomme' was all I could say. Then he removed that print and replaced it with another version of the Three Crosses, right there in front of me as if just pulled from the press, "did Rembrandt print these?" I asked, "yes" he answered. Then from the portfolio he pulled out another one, I asked him if I could hold it and he said yes. Then came another one until all five states of "The Three Crosses" passed in front of my eyes just inches away, I couldn't believe what I was seeing, Rembrandt was standing right in front of me. My heart beats fast just writing about it, one of the best moments of my life. Then I rode off on my bike, back to the boat on the Prinsengracht, a block from the Westerkerk where Rembrandt is buried. I was amazed beyond expression...... Postscript: Before I left the library I had a conversation with the assistant director, the same person who showed me the etchings, I mentioned that I was an artist and that I had been doing a lot of drypoint etchings and printing them on my wonderful Peter van Ginkel portable press. He invited me to visit him on the following Saturday. So I tied my portfolio to my bike rack and made my way to the Rijksmuseum. His office was in the center of the library, a desk surrounded by six flights of book shelves accesible by ladders, I felt as if I was in a canyon of ancient knowledge. I had to stiffle my desire to climb the ladders and open those treasures. I opened my portfolio and spread out some of my etchings, then the assistant director began to place the etchings around his office, on top of books and papers until his little office looked like my studio. The fruit of my labor, each etching custom colored in two etching runs through the press. My method was to ride my bike, mijn fiets, out into the countryside outside of Amsterdam along the Amstel River to a picnic table that was in the middle of a pasture. I would scratch the copper plate while the cows lumbered by ripping grass from the below sea level fields. My goal was to keep the line evolving, let it flow and see what happens. Of course I wouldn't really know what was there until later that evening when I began to print the plate. One pass through the press for accuracy, another one to add color, this method allowed me to experiment and explore the mystery between color and line. These were the etchings that occupied the ground floor of the library, spread out like some odd currency amidst the refined air of the Rijksmuseum. He picked four of them to buy, I included one for free knowing that the Dutch love a good transaction. He walked me to the door, I tied down my portfolio minus five, and off I rode, stunned by the fact that I had just sold some artwork inside the Rijksmuseum. Back to the little boat on the Prinsengratcht, with the sensation that I had just experienced the Golden Age.
diaries, a black leather bound book, worn by time and travel, he opened the book to show me some of the entries and when he did he opened it right to the date of my birthday, I remember thinking in a stunned way, "this person is trying to tell me something". And I took it to heart, the whole experience. I realized that the inspiration and freedom of wanderlust can be tempered with a sense of purpose. Often after work I would drive my TR4 down the coast to Big Sur, always picking up a hitchiker or two on the way, I would look at the vista of mountains above the Pacific and think of Jo Mora and his son, riding horseback, disappearing into the canyons, but never lost.