Found in corner of studio - recycled from previous financial crash/cash grab to comment upon the 100 Daze of Wastefulness:
|SOS yes both kinds|
Oh hark, Art Ranger's communications have become arythmic: so we'll now share evidence of our whereabouts. With grown offspring, we went to look and touch some rocks to see if the books and the rocks could be closer to each other.
|earth is our mother sculpted herself|
|spontaneously evolving group sculpture|
We watched our offspring way defy gravity by gathering a lot of of strength, wits and ingenuity.
Remember to breathe ..... especially if you are on the verge of tears .....
|Somewhere near Eugene, OR|
Upon our return, it seemed so random to spot a severed troll hand on the deck one day:
|cousin of squashed abandoned glove series|
|Worm jerky hieroglyph|
Art is a state of mind. Art is often not pretty.
When the world is so full of grandiosity gone bonkers, we call upon the opposite, which is quiet, small and true.
This called to mind our favorite Jack Kerouac haiku:
The little worm
lowers itself from the roof
by a self shat thread
With maybe some beebop in the background. Life delivers surprises:
|Found later behind the couch: Speaking of Trolls, great essay here|
Note the male pattern baldness.
(Sorry, nice old troll who inadvertently became a dogtoy- we're now using you as an idea )
a technological psychological rollercoaster we'd like to get off of.
Are you"WOKE? yet"
|Dog Bailey does Isamu Noguchi sculpture installation under her couch.|