I’m ready for this ungodly cold spell to die a painful death, but at least the sky was pretty for about five minutes this morning.
It’s cold enough that Thomas has finally decided that clothes are a good thing.
I finally found a one cup coffee filter I like. It’s better than a pour-over, because it also steeps.
I can’t turn my back for two seconds, without Piglet getting into things.
mixed media on canvas (collage, acrylic, and buttons)
I finally finished one book that had been lingering, so there’s hope that I might make some progress on the others. Maybe.
Thomas is a contortionist. That doesn’t look comfortable to me, but apparently he has no bones in his body.
To evoke in oneself a feeling one has experienced, and having evoked in oneself, then by means of movement, line, color, sounds or forms express in words, so to transmit that feeling that others experience the same feeling–this is the activity of art.
Art is a human activity consisting in this, that one man consciously, by means of certain external signs, hands on to others feelings he has lived through and that others are infected by these feelings and also experience them.
Filed under Art, Photography
I have no idea what he was looking at, out the patio window, but he sees everything. And he has opinions about everything. And he shares those opinions. Loudly.