Okay, I use the term lightly, the PSR of my assemblage art projects. But it’s not a triple-threat made in Dead Mule Studio, it truly has a mathematical purpose, a reason for existence. I learned of it in “The Science of Sleep” — an extraordinary and simultanéously disturbing and brilliant movie. To those who wish to delve into parallel synchronized randomness – Imagine […]
I was a one-girl band in the mid-1960s. My parents somehow procured an entire “band” which could be strapped to one’s chest and hung over shoulders. The front contained a washboard with a scrub brush, a floogle horn-type assemblage, lots of cymbals, , a bicycle horn, spoons and the rear assembly could be activated with a lever. I don’t remember what all […]
It’s a book by Richard Bönner, published in 1929 by M. A. Donohue & Company. The chapter titles clue us in to the drama to come: A Marine Game of Blind-Man’s Bluff Ned Bangs’ Story The Chadwick Gas Guns Drawing a Rascal’s Fangs Herrera Is Not Caught Napping “It’s Death To Remain Here!” Dad! — It’s Jack! and the ever wonderful […]
Well, the rodeo won out, with Shelter Island viewing coming in on Monday instead of today. We’re going to the Bob Martin Agri Center and I’m hoping the sights and scenes will provide much artistic fodder. Artists and writers must get out of the studio and observe, duh… of course you know that, but for […]
It’s difficult to juggle creating art and knowing it. Shall I read what’s up with A Book About Death, work on web design ideas with to celebrate the upcoming release of The Eve of Fluxus, or finish the final two canvases for BCAC? Part of me wants to clean house and stop apologizing for my kitchen mess. Dishes […]
I have published a book, a small phởtographic volume, a Moon Made Book and it is available to the general public for a limited time. Avoid future regret and buy one when I offer it which will be really soon. It is titled: The Arrest of Julian 8th Aboard the Transoceanic Liner Harding Mars Day — June 10th, 1967 No, really it is. […]
Growing up, our house was filled with scraps of paper. Notes from people, newspaper clippings, ideas jotted on the backs of envelopes. An ephemera house. Stuck in between the pages of books, like little truth or fiction bonuses — notes of the day, newspaper clippings, bookmarks made by preschoolers, lists of all kinds. I remember finding a faded newspaper […]
