Gee, you know, when I first started a blog I had one ambition in mind.
To get my work out "there". Where ever 'there' is.
You know what it's like - humans have a spiritual need to create. Children, tools, houses, sandcastles.
Paintings.
I guess it's related to our lust for immortality.
What we make bears witness to our existence.
Like gravestones. Roman gravestones. "Stop and look traveler, for I was once like you. Now I am nothing but dust and bones. Tu fui ego eris."
This is for Illustration Friday's Crooked.
I met a crooked man,
Upon a crooked road,
And in his crooked hand,
He held a crooked toad.
Sorry about the poem. Try as I might, I coudn't get Kingfisher to rhyme with road.
In real life you'd never get this close to a Kingfisher. Or three. Or four. :)
And sixpence are so passé. ;)
For the old man? His mother used to pull his ears when he was bad. Now look at him.
Thank you for looking. I am sorry the comments are turned off. It's because I have intense feelings of guilt at not responding, in kind, to peoples' kind words.
Did I tell you I have a literary agent? A beautiful woman in New York?
There is a God...
I count my blessings.
But I miss my blogging friends ..... :(
