Molten City

At the Met today I reacquainted myself with Rembrandt's soft shadows, drifted past various ballgowns smeared with beads, rhinestones, sequins and delicate embroidery, found a delicious Picasso drawing and sat under a dense thicket of bamboo on the roof. Out in the street the heat rode the pavement like horny gangsters. Tonight I have three fans on and the aftertaste of Herzog's Bad Lieutenant.
What a life.

Train Clouds

Outside the window is the cathedral of clouds, the wizz of wires, the sudden appearance of domestic, commercial, and urban angles invaded with green, puddles and the tide coming in or going out. Inside I watch a movie (The Hurt Locker) on the laptop. The meaning of movement, the meaning of stasis.
I think I'll go make another painting...

Portrait of L

Dreamy Green

Virgil & Djoal

New Drawings

V & Feather asleep--above & below



V asleep:

Feather:



Dennis:


Chip:

Portrait of Dennis

Portrait of Chip (SRD)

Chinglish joke for Virgil: paper painting

Portrait of 3

Sun & Wind: glittering

Pouring through my pores, drenching the retinal skin with the nameless essences we try to name as colors....

Portrait of D

Up Over

Portrait of W

Drawings

My friend's Great Dane puppy...



My Dad reading...

Wolff in Brooklyn

Spring Upstate

The Rail Trail's path saunters out over the river and then abruptly halts and morphs back into its old trestle self and tip-toes across empty space, merging with rocks and green.

In the garden the daffodils dance and the hyacinths curl their curls, dense with perfume. Everywhere the new green aches to become sky.

Delany & Wolff

Me and Chip Delany at the Kitchen

Portrait of M

good weather

The daze of spring: the blue bells blue and the lemony dance of the daffodils. Down the streets of NYC the trees bloom in a silent applause of kisses.
The body walks this way and then that trying to find the path that mimics the eyes delight. The sunlight pours everywhere in a generous deluge.
We wake up, ready or not, our reserve unreserved, our heart windows open, and the mind running away from us down the stairs and out the door...