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George, Eric, and Sheldon draw another prompt from Brian Eno and Peter Schmidt’s iconic Oblique Strategies deck. This episode’s pull delivers a simple yet provocative constraint: "Use an unacceptable color."
From out-of-key "blue notes" in jazz and microtonal progressive rock to structural leaps in Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, we explore how breaking established rules creates lasting friction. We dive into visual art history with Hans Holbein’s 1533 painting The Ambassadors—and its jarring 3D anamorphic skull—while sharing personal anecdotes on using deliberate oddities to unstick graphic novels, music production, and newsletters.
The conversation closes on a reassuring truth: leaning into "unacceptable" creative choices isn't just a trick to surprise an audience—it's often the precise spark required to entertain yourself and jumpstart stalled momentum.
Timestamps
00:24 — Wilderness edition in Kincardine and Oblique Strategies intro
02:04 — Pulling the card: "Use an unacceptable color"
02:46 — Breaking key signatures: Out-of-bounds notes in music
05:54 — Graphic novels and structural contrast in Aardehn
07:48 — Mold-breakers and unexpected choral shifts 08:54 — Dostoevsky, Moby Dick, and jarring tonal shifts in literature
11:45 — Visual contrast and the anamorphic skull in The Ambassadors
13:28 — Blue notes, microtonal guitars, and playing between the frets
18:24 — Secret themes and using weird constraints to unstick writing
20:38 — How absurd prompts kickstart creative momentum
A small victory in the War with Art.
In this episode
And, of course, Sheldon and Eric want to give a huge thanks to everyone who's been listening, backed, and following along on the journey.
Creative work always comes with expectations—but whose expectations are they?
Recorded from a cottage on the shores of Lake Huron, we unpack the pressure of following up previous work, the fear of disappointing an audience, and the challenge of finally releasing something you've spent years creating.
From music albums and novels to Kickstarter campaigns, we explore how expectations can motivate us—or quietly keep us from finishing at all. The conversation ends with a simple reminder: your next project only exists if you let this one go.
TimestampsIn this episode, we pull another card from Brian Eno and Peter Schmidt’s legendary Oblique Strategies deck — this time landing on the deceptively simple prompt:
“Do something sudden.”
Joined by painter Eric J. Drummond, the conversation turns into an exploration of improvisation, instinct, risk, and the strange balance between structure and spontaneity in creative work.
We talk about the paralysis that comes from overthinking, why artists sometimes need to force movement before they fully understand where they’re going, and how “suddenness” can break creative stagnation.
Eric reflects on the tension between the rigid technical training he teaches students and the fluid, intuitive process he actually uses in his own drawing and painting practice. From gesture drawing to improvisational mark-making, the discussion explores how mistakes, accidents, and risk often become the doorway to something alive.
Timestamps:
00:08 — Introduction to Oblique Strategies and the “Do something sudden” card
02:24 — Overthinking, instinct, and breaking creative paralysis
04:04 — Improvisation, happy accidents, and fluid drawing
06:28 — Forced momentum and creating without hesitation
07:43 — Brutal artistic critique and learning through reaction
10:16 — Risk, spontaneity, and disrupting creative comfort zones
12:16 — The Beatles, improvisation, and art as play
15:13 — Jazz, Pollock, and letting the work evolve naturally
16:30 — Characters, paintings, and works “taking on a life of their own”
18:17 — Horror, artistic limits, beauty vs violence, and the role of improvisation
In this bonus episode with painter Eric J. Drummond, the conversation narrows in on something fundamental: what it actually means to take responsibility for a creative life.
We start with risk—not as a single leap, but as a series of decisions that compound over time. From pursuing art as a career to building something bigger like a school, Eric frames the path not as optional, but as something closer to a calling—one shaped by influence, instinct, and a willingness to listen.
From there, the discussion moves into teaching and legacy. Eric talks about skill as a form of cultural inheritance—something that has to be passed on—and why modern art education often misses the mark by focusing too heavily on theory over execution. What he’s after instead is an atelier-style model: learning by doing, building peers, and ultimately creating artists who surpass their teachers.
We also get into the reality of doubt—especially as a teacher. When are you “good enough” to teach? How do you avoid becoming the kind of teacher who limits students instead of pushing them forward? For Eric, the answer isn’t perfection—it’s honesty, experience, and a commitment to the student over the ego.
The second half turns toward failure and self-critique. Eric shares a recent painting he believes didn’t work—not because of a lack of skill, but because of poor planning and impatience. It becomes a case study in scale, composition, and the cost of rushing the process. And yet, the audience responded positively—highlighting the gap between how artists see their work and how others experience it.
Throughout, there’s a consistent thread: the tension between internal standards and external validation, and the long process of learning how to live with both.
This is a bonus episode following the three-part series.
Timestamps00:16 — Creative risk as a series of decisions
01:30 — The feeling of a “calling”
03:20 — Teaching as legacy
04:30 — What students actually need
06:00 — Doubt as a teacher
06:50 — Good teachers vs bad teachers
09:45 — Career mistakes and lessons
11:20 — Relationship to his own work
13:20 — Case study: a failed painting
17:40 — Artist vs audience perception
19:00 — Overthinking vs instinct
Final — The core lesson
Part 3 of our conversation with Eric J. Drummond begins in a place most artists avoid talking about directly: not inspiration — but blockage. After finishing a major piece, Eric finds himself stuck. The ideas are there — murals, allegories, portraits — but they won’t translate. They exist as a kind of “fog,” just out of reach.
What follows is a clear look at how work actually resumes:
From there, the conversation shifts into portraiture and memory. Not just capturing how someone looks, but whether the work feels like them. Eric shares the experience of painting his grandfather from memory — and the moment it was recognized as true through a single detail. That opens into a broader set of ideas:
00:10 — Part 3 begins
00:20 — Creative block and the “fog” of ideas
02:14 — Too many directions, no clear start
04:00 — Starting small: studies and momentum
05:21 — The process as a relay, not a plan
07:23 — Returning to ideas with new clarity
10:31 — Why likeness isn’t enough in portraiture
11:45 — The gap between feeling and ability
12:51 — The moment a portrait feels true
15:00 — Art as memory across time
16:33 — Working with history in a modern context
18:03 — Taste, exposure, and composition
20:28 — Moving toward something distinctly Canadian
22:20 — Once you have skill — what do you make?
24:28 — The loneliness of being an artist
25:28 — Risk, uncertainty, and no guarantees
Referenced in this episodeJohn Singer Sargent
El Jaleo
The Last Judgment
Moby-Dick
Dracula
The Lord of the Rings
In Part 2 of our conversation with painter Eric J. Drummond, the focus shifts from discipline and craft to something harder: the tension between the work and the world around it.
We get into what it actually means to spend months on a single painting and how that patience is something Eric had to grow into, not something he started with. From there, the conversation moves into the realities of commissioned work: negotiating with clients, balancing truth with expectation, and knowing when a piece is finished versus when it simply has to be delivered.
Eric shares the three core questions behind every portrait: how you see yourself, how others see you, and how you want to be seen. And how those tensions shape the final work.
From there, things widen out:
The conversation also explores how to make work you don’t naturally gravitate toward — and how to find meaning inside it anyway. From Tolkien’s landscapes to the idea of environment as a living participant, we talk about how artists create connection even when the subject doesn’t initially resonate.
In the second half, the discussion turns philosophical:
From Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam to the balance between simplicity and complexity, Eric breaks down what it means to “catch lightning in a bottle” and why great work leaves space for the audience to complete it.
We close on the modern tension: algorithms, AI, commodification, and whether all of it might actually push truly human work to stand out even more.
This is Part 2 of a three-part conversation.
Timestamps00:12 — Part 2 begins
00:22 — Taking months to complete a painting
01:37 — Commission work vs personal work
02:29 — Working with clients and creative compromise
03:26 — The three questions behind every portrait
04:09 — Adjusting the work vs staying true to it
05:12 — “I’m getting paid to paint” — perspective and trade-offs
05:34 — The trap of “exposure” and pay-to-play
06:31 — Art vs product: where does value come from?
07:20 — Social media vs real artwork
08:02 — Promotion vs becoming an influencer
09:11 — Creative energy vs marketing fatigue
10:44 — Sharing context vs performing online
11:16 — Making work you don’t love (and finding a way in)
11:37 — Tolkien and making environments feel alive
13:45 — Lyrics, language, and meaning
14:10 — Words as carriers of meaning
15:45 — Can art be transcendent without something higher?
17:26 — Ego, humility, and answering to something beyond yourself
18:18 — The idea of one “true” painting
18:40 — Michelangelo and The Creation of Adam
21:11 — What makes something feel “real”
22:25 — Perfection vs balance in art
24:59 — Leaving room for the audience
26:03 — “Make art for artists” — and why that fails
27:54 — Systems that reward safe, formulaic work
29:11 — Opting out vs playing the game
29:33 — AI, oversaturation, and human work
30:48 — Live performance and authenticity
31:12 — Could AI actually help art?
33:07 — Focusing on what you can control
34:35 — Hope, quality, and what endures
In this episode of The War with Art, we welcome painter Eric J. Drummond — a figurative artist trained in classical realism at the Florence Academy of Art.
Eric builds his work slowly and deliberately, committed to beauty, discipline, and craft in a culture that often rewards speed and noise. He also happens to be the teacher of our own co-host, Eric Vedder — which makes this conversation personal as well as philosophical.
We talk about what it actually looks like to begin a day in the studio — the rituals, the warmups, the sharpening of pencils and clearing of distractions — and why starting is often the hardest part of any creative practice.
From there, the conversation moves into deeper territory:
Eric reflects on his time studying in Florence, the insecurity of leaving that world behind, and a pivotal piece of advice he received: your weaknesses will become your strengths.
We explore what that means across disciplines — painting, music, writing — and why the very flaws you try to correct may be the thing that makes your work singular.
This is Part 1 of a three-part conversation.
Stay tuned for Part 2.
Timestamps
00:09 — Introducing Eric J. Drummond
02:05 — What starting a studio day really looks like
03:09 — The hardest part: beginning
04:25 — Blocking in, bravery, and not getting precious
06:11 — Writing equivalents and creative rituals
08:54 — The sacred side of routine and warming up
12:28 — Discipline, the gym, and incremental growth
14:59 — Classical realism and the tension of rules
17:08 — “Your weaknesses will become your strengths”
18:43 — Flaws as style: Tolkien, Pontormo, and vulnerability
21:53 — Control, improvisation, and creative fear
25:23 — Tradition vs pushing the needle forward
27:04 — Moving beyond imitation
In this episode of The War with Art, we try something new: a random show.
After wrapping another recording, the conversation kept going — bouncing between ideas about deadlines, perfection, collaboration, and the strange emotional slog that shows up near the finish line of creative work. So we hit record and followed the thread.
Eric, George, and Sheldon unpack why “done is better than perfect” keeps resurfacing across art history, why exhaustion isn’t a useful metric for finishing, and how deadlines, editors, producers, and collaborators can act as creative unlocks rather than constraints.
We talk about the difference between feedback that’s cheap and feedback that has skin in the game, why collaboration can push work past your own internal ceiling, and how letting someone else into the process can move a project closer to its truest version — not just its fastest ending.
This is a loose, honest conversation about finishing things, trusting the right people, and carrying the work across the finish line even when you’re tired of looking at it.
If you’ve got a topic you’d like us to pull next — or a question you’re wrestling with in your own creative practice — let us know.
Timestamps
00:10 — A “random show” and why we’re trying it
01:27 — Done vs perfect (and why it never goes away)
02:19 — Deadlines, pressure, and forcing the release
03:44 — Why “perfect” is the wrong word
04:42 — Litmus tests: how do you know when something’s done?
06:21 — Being tired vs being finished
07:45 — The emotional slog near the finish line
10:48 — Live service vs print: the pressure of permanence
13:00 — Producers, editors, and creative unlocks
16:05 — Collaboration as an unlock, not a compromise
20:09 — Creative soulmates and shared momentum
25:00 — Trust, feedback, and getting closer to “good enough”
28:31 — Inviting audience topics + closing thoughts
In this episode of The War with Art, we pull another card from Brian Eno and Peter Schmidt’s Oblique Strategies deck and get a prompt that hits uncomfortably close: “Bridges — build — burn.”
From modular synth patches you create and then tear down, to monks spending days on intricate work only to wipe it clean, we talk about why building and burning is baked into the creative process. Sometimes you have to strip a piece back to its core idea. Sometimes you have to scare yourself a little. And sometimes you have to let go of what you’ve already built... even when sunk cost is screaming at you to keep it.
The guys also explore the deeper version: making something can be a bridge between who you are now and who you become after you’ve finished — and once you cross, you don’t really get to go back.
If you’ve got your own interpretation of the card, drop a comment as we’d love to hear it.
“Maybe you need to burn the bridge in order to make it not easy — and then rebuild something new.”
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Referenced in this episode:
From the publisher's feed