The mother of an astute philosophical thinker once described life as "a box of chocolates". She's right, or course, as most mothers are. When you work on paper, you never know what you're going to get.
Grayson Perry says that your mistakes are your style. Given the amount of mistakes I'm guilty of, I hope it's true.
asemic postcard ~ welcome to the deconstruction zone
Hello Again ~I looked at the ash as I drove through the desert. And the calm days, the lifestyle, the at the key of the dark world, and the clouds that float in the fractured skylight as they go to mirage mirrors.
The house offers river views. The first is the invisible darkness that overwhelms your soul. Everything is different. Looking at the river through a small window floating in the air makes my heart sink.
Yesterday I was very creative at our demonstration table in the museum: my first collage that isn't just paper & paint. There was no audience (people probably used the rare sunshine for outdoor events), but we had fun! Now some small embroidery in gold to finish it. Should I make more collages with textile parts? 🤔 @embroidery@fibrearts@fiberarts
The Chinese character for this century is lentil medicines. These are etymology drugs. All etymology drugs fish in the memory – affliction chests whittling schilling. Only one bastion remains engraved.
The Universe Stone offers 20th century textiles, ashes with a strong horse, in the procession to win the silk cabinet.
A weapon of religious herbs,
Sea of religious herbs –
the Skin Key Pretzel
slipknot dew baulk
Conspiracy trees spoiled glass motorcycles, like the tallow azure lines form a hundred coffin books, they are xanthous grass in the garden of corners and feathers.
Be disturbed – Oral-agitation Networks
~ A Black Friday Sales Event ~
This Eldritch Dadaist Absurdist Agitprop has been sponsored by
The Noir Gnosis Pheasant Agitators Theatre
The blend of Leninist Agitprop and Lovecraftian inspired Occultism/Mysticism, seemed like an interesting jumping off point for some Dadaist messing about. The fact that this week, Eldritch Friday is also Black Friday, creates additional context to play with. The madness of rampant/rabid consumerism seems close to the madness of those who look too deeply into the abyss of cosmic horror. Is Agitprop that different from the fake news, advertising, and spam that crawls across the internet (The Hounds of Tindalos braying from non-Euclidean corners and curves)?
An intercourse leaps beneath the industry. Hour cook coppers a violin. The awaited pose collapses with an advantage. Each serial official runs with the extremist existence. The advancing snack implements the concerto over a diplomatic console band.
Their daily routine includes fighting, playing with catharsis, and practising in the clouds.
The Tomatoes must be sweet and tongue beautiful
– the tongue is beautiful.
Gathered musical notes in the government creates families but canaries in the herb market – in the herb market.
Grow fast. Drink the cactus of the future, then garage on Sundays.
Howl much isotope sky as the visual information seeks concentration on the wall in the delicious memory – wall in the delicious memento.
I read an article from the online literary magazine, Empty Mirror. The article, Notes on Three Lost Poems by Gregory Corso, was about unpublished poetry by the Beat Poet, Gregory Corso, the youngest member of the Beat Poetry circle.
The idea of notes on lost poems got me thinking – what if all you had were fragments; the titles, brief notes of emotional/critical response to the poems, perhaps illustrations for each poem, and a few indiscernible or indecipherable lines. The three collage compositions are the result of this what if scenario.
Country living serves me well
The big city offers many thrills
But nothing like a warm breeze
Whispering through the pines
Cows serenading each other
Across lush green pastures
An expansive bright blue sky
Caressing a graceful swallow tail
The fragrance of the wisteria
A joy like no other
I sketch when I am learning by listening. Otherwise I zone out and do not retain anything. By engaging other parts of my brain (and hands), the bored part wakes up. LOL
Great power struggles. The moon still shines deep in the soul – chickens are as suspicious, as spines or hearing aids. Near a country sojourn, cough bubbles an occurrence, as the moon glow shrines rise with the growling ground pepper. Squirrels are distrustful, ash towers talk with red lights. Lithographs’ tawdry operatic arias invoked in the transportation of crocuses’ apparitions. Ammonia roars beneath the Blue Devil. The main strategy is to reduce capers’ flavour below weakly capricious conundrums.