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That Old-Time Religion

Joe and I spent some time at the superior local art museum today and he was inspired to produce this work while we sat on a bench near a water fountain so we could use a little traveling watercolor set somebody gave him.

It is titled, perhaps obviously, "antelope-headed god."

Feb 26, 2006 in Joe, Religion | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Smells Like Spring

When I was a kid, my father would take me to Cold Harbor, where the streams poured cold enough to nourish skunk cabbage. That meant spring. Today down near the pond I dug out some of a fleshy leaf with my thumbnail and inhaled the welcome foul aroma of an East Coast springtime.

Feb 23, 2006 in Outside | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack (0)

Daily Ugly Funny

Potlicky

(tags: dieselsweeties comics)
WARNING. Extreme profanity

Carol: Have you been following the speed skating thing?
Whit: Some, not much. I have more important things to do, like read this kind of bilious unredeemable hilarity.

(tags: filthybirdhumor comics)
Yevgeny Lalenkov

Carol: You gotta see this outfit. Worse than anything in figure skating.
Whit [in kitchen, pouring Tecate on a lime wedge and making chocolate graham crackers with peanut butter]: I'm expecting to see ostrich plumes.
Carol: You'll see.

(tags: olympics)

Feb 22, 2006 in Comics | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Whale, rider

Feb 22, 2006 in Joe | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Rather free verse

So, Joe and I sat down to breakfast yesterday morning and he had a letter from my mother and father. It was some Shel Silverstein, hand copied onto a piece of white paper.

We ate.

And the poet-artist began his work.

So, I present to you his work, unbound -- and also unbound, if you get my drift. A little Gorey here, I think. More than a little Blake, from the Songs of Experience half of the work, obviously. A great deal of the late, and profoundly lamented, and possibly even lamentable, Mr. Silverstein.

As a little preparation, I present to you here my favorite of Joe's works, and also the first in the series in the new photo album that captures it. The poem is titled, "Happy, Happy Butterfly."

*Ahem*

Happy, happy butterfly.
Uh-oh! Your friend died!

For the rest of the work, which is not (yet) epic, you may click here.

Feb 19, 2006 in Joe | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

Field Oak, Now Half Alive

An old field oak
Originally uploaded by WhitA.

Field oaks stood in pastures, where their acorns were good food for the livestock. I am convinced this one stood on an old fenceline, but I haven't found the fence yet to prove it. They take a long time to die. This one is thick with animal holes, and the red squirrels that live out back run its length regularly.

Feb 19, 2006 | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)