Do a loss of chompers really translate to a loss of wisdom?

wide-eyed and swollen-mouthed. I feel a little lost not found.

I sure hope this is a week not to remember.

Laurel Hill

Its fascinating how upon entering and roaming through a cemetery the persistence of time seems irrelevant, and furthermore nonexistent. This cemetery unifies the enigmatic force of the Dead with the living's curiosity. Aesthetically pleasing obelisks and mausoleums flood the eye leaving the surrounding world forgotten, as it should always be.

EVERYTHING

got better. :)

And tomorrow: more fun with the (un)dead

EVERYTHING IS

terrible.

An Alexandre Cabanal Construction

The birth of a new Venus.

Thrown like a brilliant star into the darkness of the civilized and of herself.

Paralleled microcosms of the fantastic

Joy Feasley, Hiking

Caspar David Friedrich, Chalk Cliffs on Rugen

I've really become infatuated with Joy Feasley. Her nostalgic, but foreign landscapes setup a dichotomy in my mind between what is familiar and what I have yet to discover. Her painting Hiking was troubling me for a long time, but I've now become satisfied with the piece. I believe it quotes Caspar David Friedrich's Chalk Cliffs on Rugen, yet instead of being parried from the cliffs with a downward perspective, the viewer looks completely outward. The excitement of nearly falling from curiosity into tumultuous spires is replaced by a longing to move nearer, to touch the great color wheel of the sky. There is of course the obvious comfort of graceful foothills rather than dangerously steep pyramids, but the same personal encounter with sudden and awe-inspiring exploration is present.

Somewhat Accomplished

I am an official webmaster. surfing through the world of cyberspace like BOB on reboot (remember the future?)

I put a song on the radio

can't get the sounds out of my head

rewind | fastforward

kill all idols

THE MIRROR ALARUM!

Dreams which are misconstrued as childish reality do not contribute much to a plot (especially for their lack of continuity and containment of quite enigmatic events) but they sure do an impeccable job of inspiring me to fall into a slumber ASAP.

PS. atmospheric entangled giants can only further emphasize my need for a nap.

Dusk in the Fish brings out DARK-ER-NESS

Minus Mesopotamia

Seeking Semiramis:

A modern day, and much more quaint version of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?

It's nice to yearn for an ancient world that lacks immediate attention to the Greeks. Hooray 4 Nebuchadnezzar!

florentine female

The gaze of the Imperial Mother

Not to be confused with Ms. M.Madonna

she's fixed my right eye.

New York Pity

WOWOWOWOWOW

I need the magic of majick with a firm grip. 

CAST A SPELL

hmm

Joy Feasley creates for the modern eye what those symbolists of the late 19th century did for Europeans at the end of the century. A black beaded curtain separates the participant from entering a space that defies gravity. Moravian stars appear to float on all levels and planes of the viewers eye enveloping us into a state of awe and curiosity. Sheathed vision boggles the mind, confusing the reality of seeing and the want of seeing. Because I did not attend this exhibition, I will go no further into explaining the experience of entering. Unfortunately only the outer empiricism can be endeavored.

A class focusing on computers and basic technologies is surprisingly beneficial to one's 21st century existence. Being late for work on the other hand, is not recommended.

those landscapes that concern the PHANTASTIC

I've come to the idea that I should at least exhibit the landscapes which I associate with the mystical, forgotten, romantic, antiquarian, and phantasmagoria of my heart and mind. I do (within the slightest bit of reason) consider them all to be within the same sphere, joined by the identities of those who inhabit them, and by consequence, those beings of flora and fauna which surround these identities. All things contributing can be rooted in the ideas captured by figments of my youthful imagination or by real experience and skewed understanding.

My Old Friend!

I've just found them, although they've been on my wall for quite a while. I guess I forgot to look.

move along

I've come back to utilizing tunng as a means of nostalgic reminiscing for a world I've never been to. 

ONE HUGE WHITE FEATHERY BRUSHSTROKE CHANGES EVERYTHING FROM BLACK TO ALMOST WHITE.