Asheville’s got a lot of murals, sometimes in hidden, unexpected places. They change pretty often too. This one somehow seems appropriate for the advent of Summer. A Year Ago: Nothing Is Perfect Some people might argue that nothingness is indeed the only possible perfection… [read more]
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I decided not to go to Florida to assist my sister Margo with the memorial and other tasks associated with the death of my aunt Phyllis. There was no way to get there and back that didn’t involve either a ridiculous amount of transit time or an extended stay in Fort Myers. And it was…
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The Stylites, or pillar-saints, believed that their ascetic practice of fasting, praying, and preaching while living at the top of a column would mortify their sinful flesh and bring them closer to heaven and Christ. (Maybe it was all just a terrible misunderstanding and God told St. Simon to seek a pillow-top bed?) Pole-sitting was…
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Always good advice, even when the troll is as cute and smugly inanimate as this one. You never know! Two Years Ago: Orbs Thomas Jefferson may have been a brilliant statesman and a very clever man indeed, but he was also something of an obsessive-compulsive… [read more]
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You are entering a santuary of whimsy and wisdom, where beauty and death play together joyfully. It’s the kind of place where a visual pun—two kinds of teeth—greets you just past the gate. Wamboldtopia is a garden of earthly delights: sculptures small and large, word-bearing artifacts, complex and artful masonry, bones, bells, and found objects…
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This image feels like a self-portrait to me. I have some new slices in unexpected places. There’s rust and sheen in equal measure. I’m up close in the details, these days, and having to trust that the bigger picture is taking care of itself. There is still beauty here, however, with the negative spaces contributing…
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A few years ago, I mentioned the French concept/term jolie-laide—something unconventionally attractive (generally a woman who does not conform to typical beauty standards but is indisputably stylish and appealing). And every now and then I find myself experimenting with pattern or color or some other mix of compositional elements, and winding up with something that…
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There was a loud knocking on my door. I wasn’t expecting a visitor, but I went to see who it was. There stood my next-door neighbor, John Guciardo, apologizing and asking for a favor. Would I take a photograph of him with one of his sculptures? Of course I would. He gave me his iPhone…
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All I have to work with at the moment is a Dr. Grip pen and some watercolor pencils. My scanner is in storage for at least another three months, so I have no good way to bring this into the digital realm to mess with it further. I thought I’d share it with you anyway,…
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The birds they sang at the break of day Start again I heard them say Don’t dwell on what has passed away or what is yet to be. Ah the wars they will be fought again The holy dove be caught again bought and sold and bought again the dove is never free. Ring the…
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