"Caddy smells like trees" Benjamin. Russian icon/ Праотец Вениамин

mid. XVII c.

http://www.rublev-museum.ru/expo/exposition_b2.asp

Caddy Compson

Hurling men in your wake;


passing freely without care,


no bearing do you take.


He's ne'er able to bear


a passing whim of girls.


For shame is wrought on those who care.

Death becomes a pearl.

Cataclysm, Digital

Farsley Farce

Farsley is a small commuter town in the City of Leeds metropolitan borough, West Yorkshire, England 6 miles (9 km ) to the west of Leeds City Centre, and 4 miles (6 km) east of Bradford. It was formerly in the municipal borough of nearby Pudsey.

Ten days after the storm, a fire rang from the sky and the citizens fled to the nearest pub (see below). The clash fell on deaf ears as they drank Guinness and other stouts. The monks in the nearby abbey were reassured, but alas, one was still not repentant. Most were happy to have the day off work.

It is mentioned in the 1086 Domesday Book as Fersellei also as Ferselleia. During the industrial revolution Farsley was a centre for wool processing as there were a number of mills in the area. Sheep have the most amazing wool from the area and it was the reliance on the animals that made Farsley a perfect spot for annihilation. Cows weren't happy though as they enjoyed the company of sheep and men, when they weren't being eaten.

Farsley is just off the main road between Leeds and Bradford and just off the A6110 Leeds outer ring road. New Pudsey railway station is between Farsley and Pudsey providing train services towards Leeds, Bradford, Manchester Victoria and Blackpool. This station was the subject of a Monty Python sketch about a Pink Blancmange. The passengers that day were upset their train was late. A couple going to London were distressed they had lost their identification. Thieves prowled the depot looking for opportune moments.

The Rev. Samuel Marsden (born in Farsley in Yorkshire 25 June 1764, died Windsor, New South Wales 12 May 1838) was associated with the reformist William Wilberforce in England, was ordained in 1793, married Elisabeth Fristan, and then sailed to New South Wales, Australia. He arrived in Sydney on 10 March 1794, shortly after the birth of their first child, Anne. By 1795 he was settled in Parramatta, where he became Chaplain, wealthy landowner, farmer and magistrate. He was known as the "Flogging Parson", because even by the standards of his day, he inflicted severe punishments. This has been attributed to a dislike of Roman Catholics and Irish. Joseph Holt, an Irish priest and activist, left an account of a flogging ordered by Marsden. Sheephead Park is a memorial garden dedicated to Marsden and is situated on Farsley Town Street.

Today Children played joyously and none of the parents believed in corporal punishment.

There are now only 4 of the previous 11 pubs left in the town though a recent addition is a "wine bar" aptly called 'The Village' Bar & Bistro which is located on Town Street. 'The Fleece' at the bottom of Town Street was the second pub purchased by Joshua Tetley's & Son the Leeds Brewer, and the first outside of the brewer's grounds. After getting drunk, the denizens of Farse passed out in the street and woke the next day to....


Excerpts above from Wikipedia. see license here-http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:Text_of_the_GNU_Free_Documentation_License

Bridegroom, Digital

Bleeding Heart, Digital

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Conversations Over Coffee

What are doing?

Writing in my blog.

Do you put, like, I'm sitting around drinking coffee with my wife and we're not doing anything?

No. I usually don't write much. Sometimes I write things but mostly, I just post some art or something.

Oh.

Multitudinous lists

Here are some of the things which I have started but not finished:
1. Reading Faulkner's Sound and the Fury, I only include this novel because it is the only one in a long list which I have started but actually intend on finishing soon. Others are long gone on the way to completion.
2. Dividing perennials in the garden and amending the soil in new beds, this is in addition to the all inclusive title-
3. Gardening, which includes the endless maintenance and continual installation of new walkways and garden beds, planting trees, shrubs and perennials.
4. Burning CDs for Kylie's class and getting some of the other items on the teacher's wish lists.
5. Sketching, currently exploring the themes and techniques of light on exterior and interior spaces as expressed in Hopper's works and the continuing explorations of minimalism for organic shapes constituting a whole.
6. Painting my downstairs. I am going for a Turkish/Middle Eastern color palette of burnt sienna and turquoise but still trying to reflect the craftsman nature of the house and preserve the Deco influence in some collections.
7. Cleaning.... especially smudges from little Kylie hands and dust
8. Choosing next weeks Fantasy football team
9. Figuring out what I am doing for next Facebook entry.
10. Deciding on tonight's dinner.
11. Filling my truck for GA.
12. Realizing Self realization...

Untitled, Digital

“Engrossed is the bee of my mind on the Blue Lotus feet of my Divine Mother”from song “Blue Lotus Feet” by Paramahansa Yogananda in Cosmic Chants.

Story of Srimati Kashi Moni, the life-companion of Lahiri Mahasaya.

Media stimulation running head and hand in time to the relation of music and news. Overstimulation of mind and spirit.

Timeliness is not the key.

Being persistant even late in the game.

There's overtime, if you're lucky.

The passage into oblivion won't come. It is not desirable but more connectedness is sweet.

Knowing almost all in a world of everything to know. It makes us divine ne'st pas?

When we can find the knowledge we have been seeking, we should want less, but somehow knowing is not enough.

We must own.

Untitled, Digital

Wit, whither wilt?

Exceedingly out of my mind? In the cracks that keep the progress backward? When will the creeping in begin and then proceed out again to awe and amaze? Spectators forever, or even for a moment, of the pertinence of wisdom. I would relish, a second, for the recognition.

Perhaps it is for the lack of wit and purpose that nothing comes. In vacuum there is not a flood of ideas. The space is not filed with meaning but remains empty and void. When the air is finally let in, it is only the air which existed outside the vacuum. No cleaner or purer, not unique in its substance. Only the same air but displaced. Creating atmosphere is much more difficult.

Maybe the elitist beliefs of witicism are not present at all. Mundane in all ways to exist; but falsely led to murky water by coincidence. Bending to drink the sludge that was painted as a bubbling brook by blithely appurtenance and then realizing that after thoughts did not count as wit. Real thought processes continuously vacant and only the only escape is dreadful plagiarism which drags the horse into the slop, dismayed for lack of originality.



http://shakespeare.mit.edu/asyoulikeit/asyoulikeit.4.1.html


Photo is Rosalind, Eighth known satellite of Uranus, from website http://www.solarviews.com

Wow, So I have been away,,, I have been very addicted to Facebook and all my friends from ages ago, sparking up the memories and running through the tragedies. How many frist trysts and frussed messes and hilapious fellows in drunken bludgeons? Oh, the times and the slip slipping through the fingers of the universe into a big pot of everything that is me.

Fall always seems to be that time for me when the spirits are high and all seems possible. I wonder frequently through the past and dust off some of thee good parts, try to fix some of the broken parts and make something that will resemble a MASTERPIECE when it is done.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gjwT3KtFytI

Untitled, Digital

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Bandaid over the problem, Digital

Kara and I went to the Inhabitact show(?) last night after an excellent Dinner at Rathbun's for our anniversary.

The Show was held in the newly completed Triumph lofts on Memorial and served as a showcase for the new lofts (with, I guess hopes that some would find them appealing enough to slap down a down payment). While I wasn't extremely impressed with the lofts, though some did have nice views and nice amenities (appliance, granite) I loved the location which offered an excellent take off position for someone that maybe had a little less baggage than I do (a single profession, say). The lofts themselves were pretty small and a little "concrete" for me and gave me the impression I would be living in an abandoned missile silo. Also, if privacy is a concern, these would not be for you.

The art was diverse and mixed in quality. It appeared many of the artists had a connection to Fineline gallery and I saw several promotional postcards for the gallery. The artist which most stood out for me was Kevin Chambers and his extensive displays of mostly ink and charcoal figures. Some sculpture was mixed in and offered the most depth for any of the pieces and ,apparently, are the artist's pride, since they were NFS. Perhaps, though, a little too extensive for the figure drawings, since I felt there was no commitment to which pieces were deemed the best.

At home in the stark setting, were the street art "esque" mixed media pieces of Travis Dodd. Chaotic individuals with machetes or appearing to throw Molotov cocktails are superimposed on old blueprints. The artist states that the arrival of the machete "coincides with the ascent of generation x to an influential position in our society". The pieces instead seem to threaten that generation X is going to tear down the establishment and would be happy to live in the ruins. My favorite was the less "political' Untitled 4 which evoked simple industrialism and challenges the viewer to linger longer in nothingness. Then, the complexity unfolds as if hidden within the simplicity.

Travis Dodd, Untitled, image ripped from his website, themachete.org

Other artists of note at the show included the art photography of David Allen Jones, the stenciled folksy pieces of Alvar Avillar, and the free flowing abstract tableau of Wallace Duvall.

Juan Carlos Rangel, Delirio de Luna, Mixed Media, image ripped from his website Sonofthemoon.com

There was free food and drinks but aside from a glass of two buck chuck, we were full from our wonderful dinner.

Last night I went to the Atlanta Botanical Garden for the Fest of Ales and the opening for the Scarecrow festival. It was an incredible evening and probably the best event I've been to at the Gardens. Since my wife works there and since I used to work there, I have been to many of events at ABG. Most impressive last night was the Banjoliscious bluegrass band which evoked an awesome Autumn aura to the evening which provided for relaxed conversation and a really good time.

My daughter's preschool, GPCP, created a beautiful "sharecrow" which was the culmination of a project focusing on exactly what constitutes a scarecrow and the phases involved (including research, construction and installation). Are brilliant atelierista, Gracie and many of the other teachers were very involved and did a fine job directing the students which created this awesome piece.

Here is a link to the whhole process:

http://gpcp.org/net/content/go.aspx?s=75846.0.104.23634

Kylie had a great time playing by the illumination of the nighttime landscape in the gardens with Shonda's and Candice's children!

Not sure which way is up, Digital

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Tara Donovan , you go! I just can't even fathom winning $500,000 dollars for something I am ( and I am sure Tara Donovan is) compelled to do. The ideas for what I could do with this money (of course in the interest of creating more and better pieces) is unlimited. The DREAM of freeing up the thoughts for more ideas to come to fruition. I would be happy with only a 10th of this!

Did you know she used to waitress at a restaurant which was frequented by Chuck Close. she never mentioned she was an artist. I can relate to that. Anyhow, Some interesting pieces I found in the process of investigating this new (to me) artist...



Haze, 2003 Stacked Clear Plastic Drinking Straws12' 7"(H) x 42' 2"(W) 7 3/4"(D)Ace Gallery New York image ripped from website of Ace gallery http://www.acegallery.net/artistmenu.php?Artist=8#

HUMAN 101: Too being or not to being...

In the interest of returning my roots... I present the formidable Mr. No Way No How. He will illustrate how to make a career being not career worthy. With the utmost skill at avoiding real contributions and forming no opinions on the way, he will find the most circuitous route to nowhere. Along the journey, you be treated to grandiose statements about the world and how it works. These enlightening moments will leave you questioning the world in a new way. Your opinions will not be changed but you will wonder at the remarkable nature of bullshit. The hyperbole will astound and the understatements will confound.

This most thought provoking course will study the various subtleties of what a career is and how you can find a place outside even these most all inclusive categories. You will find ways to blend all your pseudo talents into one large train wreck of an existence that focuses not on one thing but explores all aspects of the humanities, arts, business, science, history, geography (though mind you will travel nowhere) AND parenthood BUT which focuses not enough on any of these areas and leaves you unprepared for a solid path on any.

In this process, the class will explore how to effectively waste time writing blogs which will never be read, creating art which will never be seen, avoiding the sales process and undoing relationships which lead to wealth. In the course, correspondence with like-minded persons will not occur but the instructor will show you how, if these opportunities do present themselves, to freeze social initiative immediately to avoid undo personal exposure.

Special emphasis will be given to deconstructing the personal ego and developing paranoia, especially as concerns artistic progression and professional exposure. Confidence and Independence will be addressed, particularly as they relate to the positive progression of success and the techniques employed to undermine those admirable qualities.

matriculation fees: 1 unequivocal soul (for transient students without souls, please refer to class descriptions for HUMAN 305: Using Your Psychosis to Further Undermine Society)

Dear Mr Hirst,
I would like to thank you for your inspirations and condemn you for your success. I am exhilarated that an artist could command the world of money like you have. I am depressed that an artist can reach heights I will never reach. I am questioning what you art will mean to simpletons like me that merely paint what we see. I wonder at the complexity that I must enter in my titles. I guess 'butterfly' will not do anymore. Psaaaaaaaaalms and reverberations.

Whendoesthemeaning commmmmmmmmmmme. When does the flyiinnnnnnnnnnnng starrt.
I hope in all and forever. The main objection we have is not understanding and soon we are tested on these things. Not in the traditional academic sense but in a moral sense. Will we steal to reach the higher level? Alll just flattery for the original right?

The truth we seek is clouded by the FAME and MONEY. we try to create around it but the need, yes need, not want, always comes around and muddies up the thing. The true meaning is washed down the drain and diluted paints are following. But hey, we have the money to clean it up right? A good cleaning lady and a cook. Plenty to invest in the market, if it turns around. Make plenty to buy more supplies. Better supplies, because then the real meaning will make sense. People will 'get' it and want to buy it and I'll be trapped in an up cycle. Art world all a flurry, can quit the day job.

DAYs and days from now will be the true test...

Fascinating in a coffee shop in Glenwood park figuring creative ways to avoid responsibility. Dreaming of creative endeavors. Following the lead of the universe but never getting anywhere. Business picking up but not for me. I could have more foam if I wanted it she had said but I thought that it was perfect. Perusing art sites and wishing...
that the days hadn't blended into each other and the future had been slower and that the nights had been longer. Would the day ever come? Would the world ever know?
Ramblings started again. will this time make a difference? It always ends this way, with self deprecation, never good enough.
I will certainly have to get a thesaurus if I am going to do this. because I never can think of the "good" words. Not like James Joyce but a hell of a lot like Bloom. Wishing to be more like Stephen. Well. I guess that will come with time, right, I guess eventually you will know what I am feeling by endless hours of reading this.
If only to release the thoughts in a stream seamlessly. Can't. Instead I babble about this. I don't talk about the things around. I muse about the process and how it never happens. I see these things in her too. Hope that she can be different and sieze the day.