There is so much more to say about today, but the past 24 hours have felt like 48 days, and the 48 days have felt like 48 years divided by 27 and whatever that equals times 584.
It is time to take a nap.
California, of course. When news organizations pronounced Hillary the winner, even though the election was still a day away. Really?
And you wonder: maybe all those Conspiracy people know something you don’t.
Please stop making stuff up.
Who, What, When, Where, and Why.
First Rule of Journalism 101.
You guys are all Yellow.
You gotta admit. Something is not right up there? They construct full mosaics of people and strip them of their authenticity as humans. This is utter nonsense.
Who are these fools who have been in Medical School for 8 years –
And, this is it?
This is the product of their knowledge?
Playing with scissors and construction
ISAAC NEWTON, energy, LOVE.
Won’t be long before artists become yet another diagnostic pickle for the next Diagnostic Statistical Manual (DSM). Apparently, Psychiatry has been feeding on Art for some time, which is hardly a surprise,
But still …
I recently learned that when an artist focuses on a certain physical feature(s) this is no longer merely Art, but yet another diagnosis (DIssociative Identity something) through which Psychiatry de-humanizes the Creative Spirit into mere Pathology.
Thus, as a writer and an artist, I feel compelled to help provide a palatable title for this diagnosis, and encourage the committee which sits around, thinking up ways to crush the Human Spirit until there is none left – Van Gogh Syndrome – for surely Van Gogh would more than meet the criteria essential to keep psychobabble alive and kicking!
I also humbly submit a few pieces to illustrate this pathology.
And More Eyes
It’s Easter on a busy street.
Cars come and go, blaring music, or not.
But one would ever know there is a church across the street from me.
Attached to the other buildings on the block, it’s radically different architecture, blends in with its neighbors.
The Artist and his dog live next to the church in a building just like it (except for colors, shape and height.)
It’s a busy spot on the street.
The lights go on at night
When gatherings occur
And feelings of love and God are shared.
A warm spot for the soul.
Today is Easter.
The industrial strength restaurant diner door lists hours of service and other stuff.
The door is swung open.
People, coming and going.
Matriarchs and angelic children
Pure of heart and soul – appear.
But they are slow.
They are always late.
Never on time.
The building could be a bloc from Mondrian …
The only reason I know today is Easter is because a sales person from Nordstrom’s accidentally mentioned it.
“Good thing you came today” she said. We’re closed tomorrow.”
Stuff like that.