Complements to the Chef, even in Death. Rest, Grandpa Tulane.
Marinara sauce is far Thicker than Blood.
The Bond of Breaking Bread remains Strong and
We'll set a Place
At the Table
For You.
Twice removed
Staircase definitions
Equal Irrelevance in
Your Eyes
In our Skies might we find you Flying? Floating on.
Roasted Garlic Cloves are far more Aromatic than the
Stale Air of Family DysFUNction.
Our Love remains Transcendent.
Still, there's a bitter Broccoli Raab Taste in my Mouth.
You continued the Party in your Dreams
Uninhibitedly
Innocent
Childlike
Back to Birth.
Your Wave has been Crashing for quite some Time.
The Undtertow Swept you into the
Ether
Where new Tides reside.
Where you Wept
We now Cry.
A pictureframe Mind recalls
Snapgum Garfield and
Seafood Smiles.
Bon Apetit at the
Eternal Feast!
To learn more about Tulane, read his stepson's posts from 08.24-09.04 2007.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Sunday, September 2, 2007
09.02.07
Quote from The USAIsAMonster's latest:
"sometimes I'm sure, I'm really quite sure
that the image of spirit has a story so significant,
the iceberg tip, the hull of the ship,
there's an awful lot of love it's gotta make a little difference."
"sometimes I'm sure, I'm really quite sure
that the image of spirit has a story so significant,
the iceberg tip, the hull of the ship,
there's an awful lot of love it's gotta make a little difference."
09.01.07
Fragmented thoughts from the ICA diCorcia exhibit.
Hearthurt. Stomacheburn. Overwhelming.
How can emptiness be so full?
Devil Details tell a Story and capture Curiosity and Compassion in combination with what's implied but not Stated.
How have we become such prepackaged Commodities?
There is a Stillness, a Calm intensity. The Ether strips down the psyche Endearing you to every little Wrinkle or Glisten.
The Psyche of Cities--dull, muted, yet overstimulating. Are we "rats in mazes or amazing rats?" And you can Smell the place. Hear the traffic. It's Smoke damaged furniture, piss and grit you can feel the texture of each zipper tread.
How can something so two-dimensional be so Visceral and conjure up Laughs and Lumpthroats?
So real it's Surreal. We're just killing Time and it's dismal and gritty, yet Inspiring. We Persevere and exist in Godly light. In meditative Stillness. The intensity of eye contact confrontation forces you to acknowledge the Eternalizing aspect of Images.
The Unknown is just as important as the Shown. The Imagination runs rampant disregarding what's "real" or not through Juxtaposition Mastery. It's a portrait of Humanity. Seemingly despondent, depressing and frail--there IS Strength in Vulnerability. We Prevail and remain Resilient.
A cross section. Palpable. Immediately relatable. Hope amidst Garbage. Determined Eyes. A pouncing poise. Manifest Destiny gaze. Man, I fess the best of me grazed by these images. Trapped in a Box and Aspiring towards Greatness. Dreamers. Or those just Chugging along. Holding on tight. Letting go. Mirrors, Doorways and TVs are Portals to parallel Universes, dissecting, disembodying and fragmenting the Frame and it's Subjects as if two images or two Worlds Collide within the same Frame.
The Smell of new carpet. The Dust in my Eyes. I need Sunglasses to look at These. And I might get Wet from the shower that glistens and pours a Mother's Love unto her Daughter.
Connection. Isolation. Angelic. Desperate. Morality/Mortality/Fragility. Strength. I can Identify with some Aspect of most in the Cast of characters in his Play of Images.
I have a whole hellofalotta love for Humans.
(For a more coherent exploration of this exhibit, click here).
Hearthurt. Stomacheburn. Overwhelming.
How can emptiness be so full?
Devil Details tell a Story and capture Curiosity and Compassion in combination with what's implied but not Stated.
How have we become such prepackaged Commodities?
There is a Stillness, a Calm intensity. The Ether strips down the psyche Endearing you to every little Wrinkle or Glisten.
The Psyche of Cities--dull, muted, yet overstimulating. Are we "rats in mazes or amazing rats?" And you can Smell the place. Hear the traffic. It's Smoke damaged furniture, piss and grit you can feel the texture of each zipper tread.
How can something so two-dimensional be so Visceral and conjure up Laughs and Lumpthroats?
So real it's Surreal. We're just killing Time and it's dismal and gritty, yet Inspiring. We Persevere and exist in Godly light. In meditative Stillness. The intensity of eye contact confrontation forces you to acknowledge the Eternalizing aspect of Images.
The Unknown is just as important as the Shown. The Imagination runs rampant disregarding what's "real" or not through Juxtaposition Mastery. It's a portrait of Humanity. Seemingly despondent, depressing and frail--there IS Strength in Vulnerability. We Prevail and remain Resilient.
A cross section. Palpable. Immediately relatable. Hope amidst Garbage. Determined Eyes. A pouncing poise. Manifest Destiny gaze. Man, I fess the best of me grazed by these images. Trapped in a Box and Aspiring towards Greatness. Dreamers. Or those just Chugging along. Holding on tight. Letting go. Mirrors, Doorways and TVs are Portals to parallel Universes, dissecting, disembodying and fragmenting the Frame and it's Subjects as if two images or two Worlds Collide within the same Frame.
The Smell of new carpet. The Dust in my Eyes. I need Sunglasses to look at These. And I might get Wet from the shower that glistens and pours a Mother's Love unto her Daughter.
Connection. Isolation. Angelic. Desperate. Morality/Mortality/Fragility. Strength. I can Identify with some Aspect of most in the Cast of characters in his Play of Images.
I have a whole hellofalotta love for Humans.
(For a more coherent exploration of this exhibit, click here).
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