Been a long time gone.
The ice has melted. Some one did not use enough chain and concrete block. Rookies.
“Take away the horror of the situation. Take away the tragedy of her death. Take away all the moral and ethical considerations you’ve had drummed into you since childhood, and what are you left with? A 105 lb. problem.”
Lonely places remove the blindfold from our eyes. For some, this is terrifying.
I went for a walk.
You never know what you’ll find.
The coyotes, or something, has stripped this poor pilgrim clean. Mother Nature is red of tooth and claw.
We all have a tiger on our back trail.
Hobbies take place in the cellar and smell of airplane glue.
I think John knew. . . things.
“…I saw the infernal Thing blocking my path in the twilight. The dead travel fast, and by short cuts unknown to ordinary coolies. I laughed aloud a second time, and checked my laughter suddenly, for I was afraid I was going mad.”
— Rudyard Kipling, The Phantom Rickshaw
In which and where at, we find an end to this post.
Busy day ahead. I’ll leave a couple of bat droppings for you.
May the wind be at your back.
I had been cooped up all week, sculpting a tabletop-sized figure in clay.
Working small always tests my work ethic. Some sculptors can work in miniature and love it. Me, I love to sculpt, but my style and nature wants big, expansive gestures. So when, after four days of being diligent, good boy sculptor, my wife announces she’s working from home on Friday, there was only one thing to do.
Wilderness Photo Shoot.
After taking my wife to lunch (I’m not stupid), I loaded the props up and set out for the woods.
It was 63 degrees Friday afternoon. In Missouri, in mid-February, the first thing I see as I step into the field is a snake. A freaking little stripped snake slithering out of my path. I chose to take this as a good omen instead of worrying about Global Warming.
Field work always takes much more time than I think it will. I did not get to all the locations I had in-mind. I did manage to get some “shooting” accomplished. Enjoy.
Sometimes, I get the urge to leave some of my less expensive props on site, or even stage them at some particular location (not where auto traffic could see it, though. Don’t want accidents). I’m sure I am not the first prop artist to feel this impish impulse.
Perhaps, one day, one evening, when the sun is dying on the horizon and the purple dusk creeps from the shadowed wood, I will give in to that sibilant whisper. Yes, perhaps the whispering imp will seduce me, and I leave a Horrible peeking from behind a tree in the park.
Here, Kitty, Kitty.
From a poet:
Perhaps this moment is a dream
And you are in my mind
Please bring me a nice bowl of cream
And leave those tweets behind.
This is the last stanza from the poem The Cat and the Tease, by Theo van Joolen. You can find the poem in its entirety at fairypoet.com
I took a few liberties and added a Dark Oak twist to the original art work by Daniel Merriam. Merriam is a fantasy artist. You should check it out if you like that sort of thing. I would give an example but my own sketch would be devastated by comparison.