You’d be amazed at what goes through my mind. I have my idiosyncratic way of seeing and saying things. Flights of fancy, works of whimsy, Ned’s nebulous (or notorious) notions. All that amazing stuff goes through my mind…
As much of it as possible I intend to publish here. There’s a lifetime’s worth of “Conceptual Artistry” to be shared and I’m just getting started.
Percentage completed as of September 2020:
What’s already here is worth your while, so explore with a sense of delight and anticipation for what is yet to come.
OK, that’s about all the orientation I think you need. Use the menus, the search bar, the archive pages to find what fascinates you. (Site usage tips here) I appreciate your leaving comments and encourage your sharing of any or all of my work.
During these days of COVID-19, we are all on alert for the lessons to be learned. Lessons can be learned best, I believe, with laughter, even in times of tears. Those little bits of laughter – I’ll do my best to bring them about. Join me on the journey if you wish. All are invited, all are welcomed.
A rescue team used a 100-foot line to save the two firefighters, who were just 75 yards away from the fire when the helicopter arrived.
“Do you want us to take them with us still?” one of the firefighters asks of their gear.
“No, I’ve got to get you out of here,” the rescue team member replies.
Tasteful & Timeless
Imagine a circle: at eleven o’clock the phrase, “Dance is Romance,” arcs across the top. At eight o’clock and two o’clock are two silhouettes. At eight o’clock stands a long-haired woman in a wide-stance back bend, arms extended gracefully above and behind. From the two o’clock position leaps a lithe male dancer, airborne in a bent-leg ballet jeté, arms also extended, in front and behind.
Between the two silhouettes stretches the word, ~ between ~. The words, “Space and Time,” bend beneath like a chair-rocker at five of the clock to complete the circuit.
This circle of expression floats against a backdrop of mist and above a mist-drenched, tiled courtyard receding in visibility. In the foreground, a glistening cobblestone carriageway frames a stone pedestal planter with a dense spray of pale red blossoms, the only color in this mist (and mystery?) shrouded image.