CHAIR WITH MAN A reunion of as many siblings who could make the journey. It wasn't as long-planned as it was necessary. For some, those left who could still journey, came in great anticipation of sibling camaraderie, retelling and reliving memories, softening sibling youthful blows and jabs, but mostly an attempt to tamp down... Continue Reading →
PICNIC: 3PEARS2FIGS If we started counting... The bus drivers who take your children to school, or you to work. The paper-people who deliver your morning read to your front porch, the bush next to your front porch, or miss entirely and hit the roof. The cab driver who doesn't ask questions and doesn't sing,... Continue Reading →
GIRL WITH CHAIR He is sitting on the rim of a wood planter box that houses a smallish palm tree providing no shade on this warm day, and looking away from where I am standing. My camera is a second away from capturing this perfect shot. An image photograph for a potential sketch. One... Continue Reading →
PENN'S TABLE Watercolour by RRiederMy Reader says I've been reading too much. Reading and listening to the daily news, overhearing conversations, listening to opinions from all sides, some aloud some silent but seen face-on just the same. There's something to be said about that, but you won't hear it directly from me nor My Reader.... Continue Reading →
MANDARINS Isn't this just the berries? Actually, not berried at all...more like fruit-looped, but no matter. It's great to be on the other-side of winter. The easel in the studio remains occupied and work honing watercolour skill and hoping to find that sweet-sweet place of satisfaction is the continuum. It is the forever hope... Continue Reading →
He salutes me every morning. Him…that old guy…the early morning walker. Like me. Although, I know that I’m not the only one. I imagine he salutes every one he passes whether on the same side of the street, or not. Ex-military, for sure. Crisp camouflage pants, green jacket with emblems on the sleeve, name... Continue Reading →
The Dancer stood. Then moved toward the floor. No need for another. The music moved The Dancer. Along with the others. In confident directions. Last dance. Last call.
An idea within an idea within an idea. It never seems to stop until...someone else is doing something else that someone else is doing and the fire is lit..and it begins again. In a different place altogether from where you think you've started. My Yorkshire fellow artist and friend Rebecca from STUFF AND NONSENSE, (can... Continue Reading →
Jasper Johns burgled my mind. He took all the thoughts I’ve had about my ART that tumble around in my head, and said them aloud to important curators of important museums and important writers working on important feature essays about ART and artists. Importantly enough, wordsmith gems gleaned and made with humour sometimes not, are... Continue Reading →
LAPIN BLEAU via Thoughts on Integrity Sometimes words spoken or written by others hit a nerve, make a point, provoke, and not just a mere thought but myriads of thoughts....that are too important to ignore. Angst, about when the sky will finally fall, real or imagined, is palpable. This is not about Chicken Little. This... Continue Reading →
FALLING INTO BED "And some artists try to make something out of nothing, order out of chaos, demanding of themselves that they ably communicate structure and composition, colour and balance, and that each piece they create serve to communicate a predetermined issue as well. A piece of art asks people to stop and look in... Continue Reading →
MEYERED MARBLE It is curious, is it not, how others find us via our posts in the round-about-traffic, that interchange between and beyond you and me, and me and you, and you? What makes Ellie's POEM of consequence to me? I've begun to wonder what "kids"* think about as they look toward tomorrow. Their future.... Continue Reading →
PEGGED It wasn't what they said. Actually it was exactly that. It was not only what they said but the how of it. It was neither smart nor kind. The stolid and impassive back and forth seemed to go on for ages (because everyone agreed it had been ages)...and was in the end...all for naught. ... Continue Reading →
IRISH FARM HOUSE Did you get my message? The Reader said it was about time we had a sit-down, and The Reader is right. It really is time. There isn't much that comes and goes around that The Reader doesn’t comment on, has an uninvited opinion on or a question about. However, this is not... Continue Reading →
SIMPLY ORANGES THREE Caps with flaps or Santa hats Presented here for thee and thee, A modest image as sure as you please Of simply orange oranges three.
NUMBER FORTY-SEVEN "All his own geese are swans, as the swans of others are geese." Horace Walpole (1717-97) British writer Referring to Sir Joshua Reynolds. Wait! Wait! shouts My Reader. Geese? What geese? That's a cow...I don't see any geese! Point taken...
Grandmother’s house was always dark. That’s what I recall anyway. The heavy drapes were always pulled shut which swathed the living room in darkness. The living room became an unmistakable cave when you entered through the front door. Grandmother’s house was always dark, but it also always smelled of blackberry jam. The scent was pungent.... Continue Reading →
At first it was curiosity and wondering about a word. Then mental machinations and mindless wanderings took the high road and soon profound curiosity became a fever-pitched research obsession. It was all about a word, and the word was G-R-E-A-T-N-E-S-S. A good word GREATNESS. A great word. Greatness (n.): from the adjective GREAT to... Continue Reading →
Jots from a Small Apt. 