Blog For Free!
Archives
Home
2008 May
2008 April
2008 March
2008 February
2008 January
2007 December
2007 November
2007 October
2007 September
2007 August
2007 July
2007 June
2007 May
2007 April
2007 March
2007 February
2007 January
2006 December
2006 November
2006 October
2006 August
2006 July
2006 June
2006 May
2006 March
2006 February
2006 January
2005 December
2005 November
2005 October
2005 September
2005 August
2005 July
2005 June
2005 May
2005 April
2005 March
2004 November
2004 January
2003 December
My Links
juniperflux
cutter
bob martin
L
tBlog
My Profile
Send tMail
My tFriends
My Images
Sponsored
Blog
| Fundamentally flawed / The promised land |
| 11.13.04 (9:09 am) [edit] |
|
posted by: SoMe (reply)
post date: 11.13.04 (10:59 am)
It would seem your art leaves people speechless.
posted by: TheJongleur (reply)
post date: 11.13.04 (1:48 pm)
Reply to: SoMe
And your analysis of such a phenomenon?
posted by: SoMe (reply)
post date: 11.14.04 (9:50 am)
Reply to: TheJongleur
An analysis from me would be a shot in the dark. Perhaps your readership finds little commonality... or so much that they feel little need to add to it. Or they are not accustomed to one who expresses himself through original drawings only... lack of words leaves them lacking words in return. Ha ha. Who knows. When I look at your art, I know I lack the presence of the artist and so I find myself on a 'looking mostly' basis. There. Will that do? I am enjoying your blog. I hope lack of comments has little to do with how you choose to express yourself here.
posted by: juniperflux (reply)
post date: 11.24.04 (6:34 pm)
Try not to forget that there is much beauty in silence. Some of us would be most distraught if you interpreted our quiet gaze as indifference.
posted by: lindy (reply)
post date: 05.20.05 (7:40 pm)
Now this post was truly fun to revisit. Finding the courage to finally speak up and tell you what I was thinking about your art... even under the cloak of an alterego...
I find my earlier thoughts rather ironic. Permit me to amend that first comment if you don't mind...
(since you aren't here to protest, I shall venture forward.)
It would seem your art leaves most people speechless, that is, most people with something to say.
I trust that no matter how fragile the looking glass that seperates artist from art... a discerning eye will make note of the source of all feedback.
*grain of salt anyone?
posted by: lindy (reply)
post date: 06.01.05 (8:21 pm)
There was a ten year old girl with long brown straight pony tails on each side of her head. She was quite a spirited lass and loved to tumble into adventure where ever she went. She never really could figure out where she belonged or whom she belonged to, but knew that this strange place called the United States wasn't home. She was told to be proud that she was American. She never really understood what that meant. Come to think of it, she still doesn't.
But there was this one very fine moment that she recalls clearly... it was the day she was surrounded by people whose faces were stretched out like those appearing in Soundgarden's 'Black Hole Sun' video... these people with the weirdly stretched mouths were gathered in a circle all around the little girl... but they couldn't help the shape of the throng. The building was designed like that, you see. It was round as a donut and just happened to be rotating atop a rather tall needle of a building.
No matter how hard she tried to be calm and blend in, she couldn't get her face to do that stretchy thing and so she went and sat down on an overstuffed bench and proceeded to rock quickly, bouncing her back against the cushiony back of the bench, and lurching herself forward to repeat the process... this made the stretchy people stare harder.
She noticed the line in the floor where the sides seemed to be moving away from each other... she decided it was high time she stood in two different places at the same time and surely this was a way to do it... so the foot came down right where it needed to be on the shaggy blood red carpet and the other was lifted straight back in ice skater fashion, held with all the poise and grace of an Olympiad. And she waited. She stood and waited and as the floor did its thing, her foot began to wriggle. Try as she might, she couldn't keep her balance and just as she toppled over, the waiter passed by with a large tray full of food heading toward her family's table. As the plates of animal and vegetable went sailing to the floor in slow motion, the stretchy faced people gasped and the little girl fell to the ground with a thud that resounded far and wide. And then there was silence.
She glanced at her family and shrank back in horror as she saw their mouths stretch across their faces and then she realized she was on her own.
She sat calmly down in her chair and waited patiently for food that never came.
posted by: juniperflux (reply)
post date: 06.03.05 (8:12 pm)
Reply to: lindy
There are moments in our lives that define us. Moments that we look back at and, if we can muster the courage, say "that is when I became something of who I am." These moments can be tricky, at best, especially when the voices in your head get all shouty and point towards the other path that is clearly outlined in the snapshot of your life. The path not taken.
That said... what I like best about this story is that had this little girl's legs been made of some pliable, stretchable material... she'd have discovered something that it takes most of us a lifetime to realize, but that the author here seems keenly aware of, in nearly all instance, both paths lead to precisely the same spot.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood.
And you --
you cut your own path, my dear.
Well done.
j
posted by: TheJongleur (reply)
post date: 06.04.05 (4:22 am)
Reply to: lindy
Forgive me if I am repeating myself, but you are something of a fascinating story, Lindy.
Thank you for spending a little time here.
ams
posted by: lindy (reply)
post date: 06.04.05 (5:22 am)
Reply to: juniperflux
Why, thank you, Miss Juniper. Cutting my own path indeed. I rather like that. Bit of a rebel, I'm afraid. All shouty. Heh. That seems to describe me perfectly... at times.
*wanders off chanting 'all shouty... all shouty...'
posted by: lindy (reply)
post date: 06.04.05 (5:25 am)
Reply to: TheJongleur
Thank you for letting me spend 'a little' time here. I'm here more than a little and if I had more sense than a June bug, I'd be quiet and let you think otherwise. :)
As far as being a fascinating story... I'd say that is the pot calling the kettle black. Thank you, ummmm, 'ams' - (?!?!?!)