A herald of a by-gone era,
Before the plastic gallon jugs
that cut off circulation to your fingers.

The fingertips of the mountians
Are bathed in cold, frothy milk,
And framed by towers of triangles
That compose bird-like structures
That must be broken down and rebuilt
Every time they migrate.

Parallel to the towering cranes
Stand the reminants of naked trees,
Full of clamoring colors,
Informing me that if I so desired,
I could live from show
To show
And never
Sleep.

RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!

It jumped on her... it's real, I swear!!! Who knows where this creature came from, but whatever it was, it was sucking the living daylights out of her. It was accompanied with many friends. They were in the room next door, but no one knew what they were. We study them intensly, but no matter how hard and how long we stare, they will never make any sense to us. Their creator will always be the only persons who truly understands them and understands what they want from us. THey come to our world, the next generation of aliens... but this time, they've already invaded our planet. Their big sharp teeth are crawling out out of thir mouths, and yet some look so gentle. Can we trust them? Let's hope so... or... run for cover!!!

Child At Bath

Her eys pierce me; their brown, gray, and blue. So young with such emotion and intellect. Some may say her face is blank, but there is something underneath those eyes. There is sadness and wonder.
Her feet rest in a small pool of water while her hand rests on the edge of the rock where she sits.
Her hair is thin and soft, wispy. There is a gentle curl. Her faceand skin is soft. I feel her name coul be Emma, and with the music in the background, it is easy to hear her music box.
Every line and shadow is perfect. All of the focus is on her, the background is cloudily defined. She is the brightest object in the painting.
She is too young to be posing this way. Though she has not yet hit the age of puberty, she is so exposed. But she is beautiful.
There is some connection with me and children, a maternal connection, that is most prominent for me. I feel so close to them even when we are new to each other.

"...convey[s] an intermingling of childhood innocence and maturing self-awareness."

The Condemned, Frye

The Condemned.

Theres a man sitting at a table, with an expression on his face that I cannot completely explain. Grief, worry, confusion, regret perhaps? Sitting in a dimly candle lit chamber built of stone. A guard stands by the door, bowl of food in the corner, a tattered book and hat thrown upon the floor. He sits at the table thinking of his life, hoping for a miracle, waiting for his death, for he is the condemned.

THE ARTIST STATEMENT: GETTING STARTED (Your homework for Friday)

Brainstorm. Writing quickly, note your responses to the following questions. Jot down words and phrases. Don’t worry about making sense or making an impression, just allow your thoughts to flow. You are generating raw material to make use of in writing your artist statement.

* Save your responses and bring them with you to class on Friday.

1. How did you get started in your art form?

2. What are some of your favorite things about your work?

3. What are some of the things you do every day as part of your artistic practice?

4. When your work is going well, what do you notice?

5. What materials do you enjoy working with?

6. What medium(s) do you currently associate yourself with?

7. What do you explore or investigate through your art?

8. When you need inspiration, where do you find it?

9. Describe your working process.

10. Who is the intended audience for your art?

11. Who are some of the people who’ve shaped your point of view as an artist?

12. What are some of the things you’ve learned over the past three months?

13. What are you currently working on?

14. What are some of the books, movies, and other art works that have had a strong impact on you?

15. How does your background influence your work?

16. What impact do you hope to have with your work?

17. What does making art mean to you?

18. When you’re not doing your art work, what do you do?

Broken for You: Chapters 1-10

Wanda's pain is shown through her wild neuroticism, which really puts people off... thus hurting her more. Wanda is fortunate enough that Margaret is able to look past that and accept Wanda, understand her pain, and welcome her into her home.

Margaret's emotional pain has shut her away from the world. It's as if Margaret thinks that by doing so, things will return to a happier time in her life (perhaps when her father was alive, or when her son was alive.)

Cat Pictures That Make Me Laugh

Bleu de Maîtresse

What do you see when you look at me?
When you gaze into my eyes?
Can you?
Am I imploring you to take me with you
Or do I seem lost?
Or maybe
I am pleading you to leave me
To walk far away
Where my nimble feet won’t tread
Away from the darkness and the ice
That drapes my shoulders
And weighs upon my eyelids
Sliding down
Down
Heavy

I am a porcelain goddess
Cold and smooth to the touch
My cheeks lightly frosted in pale pink
My lips
They draw you in
Shaped like a temptresses heart
Deep Red
Rose Red
The only thing that calls to men
In my peacock blue isolation

I am
The epitome of a woman’s beauty
I am
Masculinity at it’s softest
Blurred at the edges
Like smeared charcoal
Strong
Slender cheekbones
I am
I am

Dance your eyes upon me
And you will see the shadows
Under my eyes
The weariness
Of my stance
Again
You look at me
And I appear ready to bear
Your awful promise of Love

I laugh the sound of waterfalls
Sing me a song
As I walk down to the waters
Forget your promises
I will return to the liquid that bore me
And only my lips will remain
Vivid rose petals
Floating upon an ocean of the very
Deepest
Blues

It is foolish to build your dreams
Upon waters such as these