WERE THIS A PLAY

“Don’t tell them too much about your soul. They’re waiting for just that” —Jack Kerouac What do a flood plain near a big city and windy moor not near one have in common?… Continue reading →

SACRED, SOCIAL AND SURREAL

No deeper meaning here—wider, maybe. That’s OK, good even. Not an art work, but an art play. I just assembled some random and as realistic as I can make them representations in one… Continue reading →

TRONIE ALONIE

“It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness. A handsome woman talks nonsense, you listen and hear not nonsense but cleverness. She says and does horrid things, and you… Continue reading →

NOT BEAUTY

And lo, the beast looked upon the face of beauty. And it stayed its hand from killing. And from that day, it was as one dead.” Title card from the 1933 film King… Continue reading →

THESE DAYS

At age 20, we worry about what others think of us. At age 40, we don’t care what they think of us. At age 60, we discover they haven’t been thinking of us… Continue reading →

POPEYE THE PAINTER MAN

This one began as a statement of leaving it all behind, it being the no longer useful nude and suit couple as personifications of love and work, AKA pair bonding and career building.… Continue reading →

HABITUS, HABITAT

“Sorrow is so easy to express and yet so hard to tell.” —Joni Mitchell, no date IT’S DIFFICULT coming up with an explanation for an image that feels like it says something—not just… Continue reading →

WHAT ART ISN’T, PART I

Yes, this is late in the game. I ignored “Comedian” (the banana/duct tape thing) as long as I could. First, its “creator” Maurizio Cattelan, IMO is a funny artist. Websearch him for yourself.… Continue reading →

DOWN? SO LONG!

Thinking of public displays of affection: sincerely, acting, acting out. adding spotlights and judges “the thrill of victory, the agony of defeat.” blah blah blah. Thinking about and idea for a painting/post: competitive… Continue reading →

I-BYZANTIUM

Consume my heart away; sick with desire And fastened to a dying animal It knows not what it is; and gather me Into the artifice of eternity. (W. B. Yeats 1933) We tend… Continue reading →