pencilton
@moonleg.bsky.social
Teacher, intermittent artist, sporadic writer.
“art’s most ardent and morose admirer”
matthewpshelton.com
“art’s most ardent and morose admirer”
matthewpshelton.com
open.substack.com/pub/softpost...
I wrote about a pedagogy of tracing, and tracing and teaching as metaphors for each other, and the gap between what we can see and what we can create.
I wrote about a pedagogy of tracing, and tracing and teaching as metaphors for each other, and the gap between what we can see and what we can create.
January 24, 2026 at 5:05 PM
open.substack.com/pub/softpost...
I wrote about a pedagogy of tracing, and tracing and teaching as metaphors for each other, and the gap between what we can see and what we can create.
I wrote about a pedagogy of tracing, and tracing and teaching as metaphors for each other, and the gap between what we can see and what we can create.
Damn leo’s over here about to crush my dreams of being a widely-read author of pithy, soul-stirring passages about the relationship between consciousness and technology
Stay in your lane pope!
Stay in your lane pope!
November 17, 2025 at 4:35 AM
Damn leo’s over here about to crush my dreams of being a widely-read author of pithy, soul-stirring passages about the relationship between consciousness and technology
Stay in your lane pope!
Stay in your lane pope!
this piece by @jamellebouie.net is tough. I especially appreciated the subtle but pointed invocation of Dubois’s conception of the ‘psychological wage’ of whiteness. www.nytimes.com/2025/10/22/o...
October 23, 2025 at 2:55 AM
this piece by @jamellebouie.net is tough. I especially appreciated the subtle but pointed invocation of Dubois’s conception of the ‘psychological wage’ of whiteness. www.nytimes.com/2025/10/22/o...
hollow victor, ink and water soluble pastel on cardboard, 2023
October 9, 2025 at 8:15 PM
hollow victor, ink and water soluble pastel on cardboard, 2023
untitled, mixed media collage, 2015
October 9, 2025 at 8:06 PM
untitled, mixed media collage, 2015
a circle’s just a line turning into itself
August 29, 2025 at 12:42 PM
a circle’s just a line turning into itself
The alienation of growing up in that context doesn’t resolve. drawing/learning to draw is a blessing. writing/conveying is a gift. yet we can’t afford timespace to affirm & validate & share our abundance. no way all this spirit/speaking only belongs to those w undemanded time or passive income.
January 9, 2025 at 4:27 AM
The alienation of growing up in that context doesn’t resolve. drawing/learning to draw is a blessing. writing/conveying is a gift. yet we can’t afford timespace to affirm & validate & share our abundance. no way all this spirit/speaking only belongs to those w undemanded time or passive income.
forfeited to zuck because that’s the price of connection?
what to do with old stories that turn inside us from water to vinegar to wine and back again? i grew up in what i consider to be a very religious and progressive home in the rural South, and it increasingly feels like an impossible space.
what to do with old stories that turn inside us from water to vinegar to wine and back again? i grew up in what i consider to be a very religious and progressive home in the rural South, and it increasingly feels like an impossible space.
January 9, 2025 at 4:27 AM
forfeited to zuck because that’s the price of connection?
what to do with old stories that turn inside us from water to vinegar to wine and back again? i grew up in what i consider to be a very religious and progressive home in the rural South, and it increasingly feels like an impossible space.
what to do with old stories that turn inside us from water to vinegar to wine and back again? i grew up in what i consider to be a very religious and progressive home in the rural South, and it increasingly feels like an impossible space.
what to do with these “skills”/capacities/functionality with images and words, this ability to draw and write, that apparently is even less necessary now than it was ten years ago? post it?
to be mined by corporate language learning models so they can render consciousness even more vestigial?
to be mined by corporate language learning models so they can render consciousness even more vestigial?
January 9, 2025 at 4:27 AM
what to do with these “skills”/capacities/functionality with images and words, this ability to draw and write, that apparently is even less necessary now than it was ten years ago? post it?
to be mined by corporate language learning models so they can render consciousness even more vestigial?
to be mined by corporate language learning models so they can render consciousness even more vestigial?
my mind/the world? feels like a fractured screen that’s too splintered to touch and too precious to replace. i feel pinned between anger and sadness, but most of all by rumination on all this, & a desire for it to be somehow different.
January 9, 2025 at 4:27 AM
my mind/the world? feels like a fractured screen that’s too splintered to touch and too precious to replace. i feel pinned between anger and sadness, but most of all by rumination on all this, & a desire for it to be somehow different.
Christ’s ecstatic expression as he guides/forces Thomas’s forefinger into his open wound… Thomas’s gaze seeming slightly off, stunned, maybe blinded…feeling only, since seeing is not enough, apparently.
to state the obvious, i’m depressed. about the state of things.
to state the obvious, i’m depressed. about the state of things.
January 9, 2025 at 4:27 AM
Christ’s ecstatic expression as he guides/forces Thomas’s forefinger into his open wound… Thomas’s gaze seeming slightly off, stunned, maybe blinded…feeling only, since seeing is not enough, apparently.
to state the obvious, i’m depressed. about the state of things.
to state the obvious, i’m depressed. about the state of things.
…Caravaggio’s own lurid mythology, and our own present inflammation of glory-fied misogyny and sexual violence, and this week’s victory lap for fascists…the static electrical storm of their furrowed brows and heavily starched tunics… the Trinity of open ears…
January 9, 2025 at 4:27 AM
…Caravaggio’s own lurid mythology, and our own present inflammation of glory-fied misogyny and sexual violence, and this week’s victory lap for fascists…the static electrical storm of their furrowed brows and heavily starched tunics… the Trinity of open ears…
…identifying with that doubt, that sense of cynicism, through this morbidly sexual, sexually morbid, homo/erotic image within the context of the Catholic Church, the Renaissance…
January 9, 2025 at 4:27 AM
…identifying with that doubt, that sense of cynicism, through this morbidly sexual, sexually morbid, homo/erotic image within the context of the Catholic Church, the Renaissance…
this post is a navel gazing bummer, sorry. you’re welcome.
been kind of stuck on this image of doubting Thomas, fbow. i know copying Caravaggio is basic. but i enjoy the friction of embracing doubt as a self discipline—doubt about oneself, the world, one’s place in it—
been kind of stuck on this image of doubting Thomas, fbow. i know copying Caravaggio is basic. but i enjoy the friction of embracing doubt as a self discipline—doubt about oneself, the world, one’s place in it—
January 9, 2025 at 4:27 AM
this post is a navel gazing bummer, sorry. you’re welcome.
been kind of stuck on this image of doubting Thomas, fbow. i know copying Caravaggio is basic. but i enjoy the friction of embracing doubt as a self discipline—doubt about oneself, the world, one’s place in it—
been kind of stuck on this image of doubting Thomas, fbow. i know copying Caravaggio is basic. but i enjoy the friction of embracing doubt as a self discipline—doubt about oneself, the world, one’s place in it—
what does it mean that my parents’ cosmology of junk is my mood board
December 1, 2024 at 4:10 AM
what does it mean that my parents’ cosmology of junk is my mood board