Saturday, June 27, 2009

carrots and paintings

carrots :)
It's been so dang hot outside, and inside if you're unlucky.

Ezra & a self portrait

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

some words from miro

"When I see the sun or the crescent of the moon in the immense sky, I'm absolutely overwhelmed...
I get my ideas from the simplest things. I prefer a plate out of which a peasant is eating his soup to the ridiculously ornate plates wealthy people use... For me, an object is something alive. A cigarette, a matchbox have a life that is much more intense than that of certain humans. When I see a tree, I receive a shock...
When I'm not satisfied with a picture I feel a physical uneasiness as if I were sick, as if my heart were not beating correctly, as if I couldn't breathe, as if I were suffocating...
I work like a gardener... becoming truly a man one becomes capable of communicating with all men...
But in order to truly become a man, one must get rid of one's false self...In other words, it is necessary to return to anonymity...
...a deeply individual gesture is anonymous. And by anonymous, it makes it possible to attain the universal. I am convinced that the more individual something is, the more it becomes universal. seek out the noise hidden in silence, the movement in immobility, the infinite in the finite, forms in emptiness and myself in anonymity."

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

highlights from the monster show.

"Gerasene Demoniacs" by Tim Baron

"New Shoes" by Conlen Patrek

"Cyclops" by Paul Demaree

"Ghost Mugger" by Daniel Dienelt

"When, if god" by me

"City Pie" by Bob Rebrovich

Monday, June 15, 2009

a couple poems and saturday night fever

I understand English.
This poem is written in English.
I have no idea what this poem is saying.

--Billy Collins

"Introduction to Poetry"

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
--Billy Collins

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

While loving St. Vincent de Paul...

Some quick finds.

I like to imagine the ladies who work the register at Saint Vincent de Paul thinking me crazy. I've gone there three times in the past couple weeks and bought large amounts of frames. The ones no one else has any use for are the best. Today, 25 frames, one coffee mug, and a creamer pitcher for $8. Almost as nice as the creative execution, narrowly escaping ecstasy.

Sneak peak: Dreamer and Poet

The back of a frame.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

more madness!

Left to right: Two of a kind a little different, Do you understand me now?, Where it is is three, I am beauty but beauty is bigger than me, Symbiotic relationship, Somebody always has it better (or worse) II, Feeling crowded, Love your words.


art is my favorite.

My new studio next to the washer and dryer amongst the rubble of an old basement. I think it used to be the coal room. I love it! Here's some stuff for your eyeballs. I've been working primarily in watercolors recently, a medium normally scoffed at by my elitist oil painting self.

In order of appearance: Is there god?, Ideas, pre-assembled (Love your words), Sometimes we need help, Meditation with death.
More after dinner. :)