DE LA CIUDAD

PASEO DE LA REFORMA

Farmers, teachers, and other activists unite in number for better wages and working conditions along Paseo de la Reforma, Mexico City. At dusk they carry torches; the smoke carries. Their voices echo. Lovely.

I

: CUERNAVACA

::::::::::: PULS

Happy Mother's Day Mary.

:: SENOR TROTSKY

Nunca sabía que él levantó pollos.

1716

:::::: HOW TO DRAW A BUNNY

A :
The Republican’s are bold—not like the other guys. They don’t mess around and get things done the right way. I vote for what is right.

B :
What is right is subjective. Who can define what is right?






A :
There is only one right—I listen to the big guy.





B :
Who is the big guy?

A :
God tells me what is right⎯how to vote. I can't go wrong if I listen to him—like my wife… he tells me what is right.




B :
?



.

::

::::::: FH000011

The photograph above is a detail from a painting--an abstracted construct of hardscape.








On exhibit at Gallery 218, Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

BANGKOK

:: JUSTSEEDS

I love
killing bottle caps.
I step on them in my beach sandals and kick them aside.

BEIJING

ñkãûêºãq‚ã,

Beijingxi West Rail
China 2006

:::::::: MARTHA HAYDEN

Two Chairs
Martha Hayden
2006 Gouache


There are so many aspects of Martha Hayden’s work that I enjoy; her expression of spaces using color; a quality not so much unlike sculpture in the round. I find her jewel tones to be the most alluring.
Thank you Martha

DEATH OF A NATURALIST

.
All year the flax-dam festered in the heart
Of the townland; green and heavy headed
Flax had rotted there, weighted down by huge sods.
Daily it sweltered in the punishing sun.
Bubbles gargled delicately, bluebottles
Wove a strong gauze of sound around the smell.
There were dragon-flies, spotted butterflies,
But best of all was the warm thick slobber
Of frogspawn that grew like clotted water
In the shade of the banks. Here, every spring
I would fill jampotfuls of the jellied
Specks to range on the window-sills at home,
On the shelves at school, and wait and watch until
The fattening spots burst into nimble-
Swimming tadpoles. Miss Walls would tell us how
The daddy frog was called a bullfrog
And how he croaked and how the mammy frog
Laid hundreds of little eggs and this was
Frogspawn. You could tell the weather by frogs too
For they were yellow in the sun and brown
In rain.

Then one hot day when the fields were rank
With cowdung in the grass the angry frogs
Invaded the flax-dam; I ducked through hedges
To a coarse croaking that I had not heard
Before. The air was thick with a bass chorus.
Right down the dam gross-bellied frogs were cocked
On sods; their loose necks pulsed like sails. Some hopped:
The slap and plop were obscene threats. Some sat
Poised like mud grenades, their blunt heads farting.
I sickened, turned, and ran. The great slime kings
Were gathered there for vengeance and I knew
That if I dipped my hand the spawn would clutch it.


--Temple Cone

:::: OPEIU LOCAL 35

http://mke.indymedia.org/en/2007/01/206741.shtml

:: HOLGA No5

JOS. PABST

Thank you.

:::::::::::::::::: 218

Landscape [Reversible]
Latex w/rug
2006 Monoprint

It was walked on and over, kicked around, ignored, and picked up off the floor by its tender little threads. This type of reaction by art patrons was not what I expected. I need to sincerely apologize to the young woman who gently picked it up off the gallery floor--neatly folded it; patting it gingerly as she extended it to me. I thanked her. She was clearly apologetic after I explained that it was just a funny part of the art exhibit. I was just as embarrassed as her by this reaction since I felt as if I had just played a trick on some unsuspecting person. [Note to self] tether rug to floor

: SPICE WORK

photo by Spice House
Wauwatosa, WI

~THE alchemists of fine spice

http://www.spice-work.com/