keeping ideas in line
Just Hatched Art & Words
Words In Progress
Ever trudging through the valley of optimism
my bread buttered on both sides
SNEAK PEAKS I
bike trip book
A glimpse and nothing more
As far as I can tell, in 1983, the world was very much like it had been since Eisenhower was President. Television was more widely watched, but there were still only three networks and four local stations transmitting a signal to an aerial, or antennae. Sunday “blue laws” were still in effect—prettymuch all stores were shut and no booze could be bought. (In fact, our town, Wilton, was “dry”, meaning no liquor was sold no matter what day it was. Thus, one was forced to drive to the next town (yikes!) to buy alcohol. Thus our puritan heritage was preserved.
And no cartoons on the TV on Sundays—the closest thing being Davey and Goliath, a stop-animation show featuring puppets playing the title roles of a Christian boy and his equally Christian dog. It was enough to drive kids outside to play.
SNEAK PEAKS II
Murdering Mona Lisa
Keeping Art Alive
He had charred the bones from white to black to white again that very evening but, being human and fresh, they were still difficult to saw and even more difficult to grind. He adjusted the cheese cloth mask he wore over his face and continued to pound them until his arm ached and his fingers cramped around the pestle. He stepped away to rub his hands, wipe his brow and dab his eyes—it would be a catastrophe to drip his own sweat into the mixture. “Vos os sont aussi durs que votre coeur” he said aloud through the gauze, his eyes resting on a redish-yellow mass afloat in a green glass jar tightly sealed with wax. Upon reflection, he thought as he returned to pounding, the heart in that jar was probably harder than these bones.
Chasing the Bag
Homage to Remy Charlip
Once outside, Charles needed a Little Time to get Things Straight.
Little Time was happy to run such errands.
Charles then waited….and waited….and waited… (“Time does have short legs,” Charles reflected)
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And then my fellow travelers took away my maps.
—Jamey Verrilli (paraphrasing Walt Whitman)
