Sale on canvas prints! Use code ABCXYZ at checkout for a special discount!


Displaying: 1 - 7 of 7

Why Do I Do What I Do ?

February 17th, 2020

Why Do I Do What I Do ?

These are some of the images I have submitted a few years ago to Tony Deifells' blog: "WDYDWYD? (Why Do You Do What You Do/) I think of them as Graphic Poems. Some of these were shown as part of an exhibition at the 'Burning Man' of 2011.

Departure, Absence, and Return

September 15th, 2013

Departure, Absence, and Return

These are graphics distilled from jpegs of an earlier era. Still, there's something strong about the dance. The theme of Departure, Absence, and Return has been a main current for me since I first heard Homer's Odyssey. This interest in the long journey home was further amplified by George Crumb's haunting piece for string quartet and tuned water-glasses: "Black Angels!"

Creative Thinking

August 2nd, 2013

Creative Thinking

This covers a range of several styles, and comprises my visual contributions to Creative Thinkers International.

PICTIFY pictures

July 30th, 2013

PICTIFY pictures

These are primarily photos of artwork I've placed over on Pictify...

Short Series

July 29th, 2013

Short Series

Short Series from the Art 3000 site.

Odd Landscape

July 27th, 2013

Odd Landscape

This is a toehold in an attempt to return to the perceptual investigations of my writing and illustration.

Carnival Song

June 24th, 2010

Carnival Song

Let our drunken rituals

Remember all

Byzantine accuracies

In a detailed demotic

Derived from family battles

Where little understanding

Yields no common ground,

And all you get to sing about

Are Willow Trees...

Willow Trees...

Willow Trees...

As people pass

Illumining the pavement

With motor-scooter sparks

Saddled in unemployment,

Concretized to Lottery

Newspaper hats

That blow away when children

Dressed in Carnival approach

A cotton-candy lunch

Full of waiting age

Nestled in the shadows

Of Willow Trees...

Willow Trees...

Willow Trees...

These costumed children

Have singled out today

As a day of cap-guns and capes,

So grown-up work

Is best forgotten

As hope resides in musicboxes.

An old man grinds

The organ-box

Asking all the while: "Is this

The little death ?

"Does my hand drive the song.

Or do the airs reside

In Willow Trees...

Willow Trees...

Willow Trees...?