Tuesday, May 22, 2018


"Kirke Metamórfosi" by Troy's Work Table. Deep dreamed by artificial intelligence.

Photo source: “Circe,” bronze sculpture, 1893, by Bertram Mackennal.

Style source: “The Sorceress,” oil on canvas, 1913, by John William Waterhouse.


"Peace. I would have laughed if I were not so ill. The sour tang of cheese in the kitchen, the salt-stink of seaweed on the breeze, the wormy earth after rain, the sickly roses browning on the bush. All of them brought the bile stinging to my throat. Headaches followed, like urchin spines driven into my eyes. This is how Zeus must have felt before Athena leapt from his skull, I thought. I crawled to my room and lay in the shuttered dark, dreaming of how sweet it would be to cut through my neck and make an end."
—page 239, from Circe by Madeline Miller

Monday, May 21, 2018


"Kirke Athánatos" by Troy's Work Table. Deep dreamed by artificial intelligence.

Photo source: “Circe,” albumen silver print from glass negative, 1865, by Julia Margaret Cameron.

Style source: “Circe Offering the Cup to Odysseus,” oil on canvas, 1891, by John William Waterhouse.


"But gods are born of ichor and nectar, their excellences already bursting from their fingertips. So they find their fame proving what they can mar: destroying cities, starting wars, breeding plagues and monsters. All that smoke and savor rising so delicately from our altars. It leaves only ash behind." 
—page 135, from Circe by Madeline Miller

Thursday, May 17, 2018


"Manifestation" by Troy's Work Table.

Photo source: anatomical drawing from De humani corporis fabrica, 1543, by Andreas Vesalius. Style source 1: patterned necktie. Style source 2: "Merian," no. GA6 of the Inktopodes.


Tuesday, May 15, 2018


Contentment, or, the Pork Chomp.

Saturday, May 12, 2018


"Kirke Pharmakis" by Troy's Work Table. Deep dreamed by artificial intelligence.

Photo source: "Circe," sculpture, 1860, by Charles-Alphonse-Achille Guméry.

Style source: "Circe Invidiosa," oil on canvas, 1892, by John William Waterhouse.


"I had a wild thought there, beneath that sky. I will eat these herbs. Then whatever is truly in me, let it be out, at last. I brought them to my mouth. But my courage failed. What was I truly? In the end, I could not bear to know."
—page 65, from Circe by Madeline Miller


"Let me say what sorcery is not: it is not divine power, which comes with a thought and a blink. It must be made and worked, planned and searched out, dug up, dried, chopped and ground, cooked, spoken over, and sung. Even after all that, it can fail, as gods do not. If my herbs are not fresh enough, if my attention falters, if my will is weak, the draughts go stale and rancid in my hands."
—page 83, from Circe by Madeline Miller

Friday, May 11, 2018


"The Death of Hector" by Troy's Work Table. Deep dreamed by artificial intelligence.

Photo source: "Hector and Andromache," Italian marble, 1871, by Giovanni Maria Benzoni.

Style source, left: Terracotta amphora, circa 540 BC, Greek.

Style source, right: M51 "Whirlpool" Galaxy viewed by Chandra X-ray Observatory Center and Hubble Space Telescope.


"The breeze shifts and blows towards him across this nine years' battlefield, and he imagines that somewhere behind leather and dung and horses and men long dead in the sun, he can just make out the scent of myrrh from the Scaean rampart."
—page 144, from The Rage of Achilles by Terence Hawkins


"He falls backward and cannot believe he is still enough alive to hear bronze rattle and feel the shock of body on earth. He tries to move, more from curiosity than desire to be elsewhere. Nothing. The purple mist of which the poets speak is gathering. He did not expect it to roar in his ears. How could mist roar?"
—page 154, from The Rage of Achilles by Terence Hawkins

Wednesday, May 09, 2018


"Ogygia Banjo"

A photograph of The Dog was given to an artificial intelligence, whereupon it "deep dreamed" it in the style of one of the Inktopodes, Ogygia.

Tuesday, May 08, 2018


My hypothesis is that there are three types of dogs in regard to walking on a leash.

This is Banjo. As the current actor in the role of The Dog, Banjo mostly fancies himself as a regal walker. He likes to be out in front, walking ahead of the person holding the leash. He struts his stuff and hopes that you keep up. If you don't, then he stops and turns to stare at you with a royal gaze meant to wither you and remind you to pick up the pace. This style of dog walking is one of the person serving their necessary purpose of making the walk possible.

This was Abby the (Wiener) Dog before she grew old and became ill. She liked to walk alongside the person holding the leash, occasionally glancing up and to her side to make sure that she was keeping pace with holder of said leash. This style of dog walking is one of honoring the holder of the leash, or perhaps dog and person being equals for a few moments of "freedom" on the trail.

This was Abby the (Wiener) Dog after she was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and her length of walks was limited by her veterinarian. She tended to walk behind the person holding the leash, slow and deliberate, but still keeping on the guard for stray squirrels or bicycles coming down the trail. This style of dog walking is one of the person being in the lead, but primarily because the dog needs to keep its person under a watchful and protective eye.


Now I need to start putting this notion to the test, paying better attention to the other dogs and their walkers on the trail.

Thursday, May 03, 2018


Troy's Work Table Publishing will be at PuliCon 2018: Puyallup's Comic Convention, as part of Artist Alley.

10:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. • Saturday 05 May 2018 • Puyallup Public Library

Three sizes of Inktopodes framed original artwork will be available for purchase. All are watercolor ink, India ink, and gouache on watercolor paper. (Some also include pigment-based iridescent calligraphy ink.)

All prices include original artwork, frame, and adoption information. Tax is included in the price.

(1) 3" x 3" watercolor paper in frame = $15 each.

(2) 6" x 6" watercolor paper in frame = $50 each.

(3) 8" x 10" watercolor paper in frame = $100 each.

Pictured above are Eeyore (3x3, upper right); Yoo and Dub (6x6, lower right); and Ogygia (8x10, left).

Wednesday, May 02, 2018


I always wondered what patronage of my poetry or art might look like. Who would be willing to help fund my work? What would that funding entail? Would it stifle me or free me to create?

Well, now I know. For my birthday, The Father gave me a set of Dr. Ph. Martin's Bombay India Ink colors, a set of Dr. Ph. Martin's Hydrus Fine Art Watercolor Ink colors, and a set of watercolor brushes as gifts. I was slowly building a palette of inks (exclusively Dr. Ph. Martin's, by the way), bottle by bottle, as I sold various pieces of work. Each new bottle allowed me a bit more freedom to experiment and try to find my "voice." With the addition of twelve additional colors of watercolor and twelve additional colors of India ink, as well as many brushes of various sizes, it could play with colors and imagine new Inktopodes.

Perhaps it wasn't patronage in the traditional sense, but for me it had the same effect.

So, the answers to my questions are:

Who would be willing to help fund my work? 
In this case, obviously, my father. As someone who has discovered and kindled his own artistic impulses over the past two decades (primarily in woodworking), he has become one of the strongest champions of my work (in whatever form, poetry or painting/drawing).

What would that funding entail?
It entailed providing me supplies that I may have eventually ended up gathering myself, but at a much accelerated pace that I couldn't imagine on my own. It entailed providing me with supplies that I didn't ask for, but for which I am exceptionally grateful and that were exactly what I needed.

Would it stifle me or free me to create?
Considering these came as gifts, without conditions, these inks and brushes have definitely freed me to play a bit looser than I would have otherwise. I welcome the opportunity to experiment and the liberty to better attempt to have what I imagine take on material form.

In summary, this "patronage" was rather welcomed. It allows me to work faster and freer. For these inks and brushes, as well as for the support of The Father, I am extremely grateful.