I have always enjoyed taking walks, but it is only because of my wish to keep the dogs’ walks somewhat fresh that we have explored practically every street within a thirty to forty-five minute radius from our house. If it weren’t for the dogs, I certainly would have no need to go walk down the […]
Earlier this month I visited San Francisco with my father for a couple of days. Among other things we visited the De Young museum. There I was struck by this photograph, and on inspection, recognized the name of the artist, Imogen Cunningham. Not because I have any especial knowledge of 20th century female American photographers, but […]
I have no idea why someone would enter the phrase “eamon smells of poo” into a search engine, but someone evidently has, because that phrase has shown up in the list of search queries used to find this site. I assume it’s not me who smells so, given the alternate spelling of the name. Another, […]
I’ve been reading through John Updike’s collected early short stories. From “Snowing in Greenwich Village”, we have this passage: Her face was pale, mottled pink and yellow; this accentuated the Modiglianiesque quality established by her oval blue eyes and her habit of sitting to her full height, her head quizzically tilted and her hands palm […]
The 2008 calendar above my desk here at work shows a different Wayne Thiebaud painting each month. January displays this. I like Thiebaud’s work for a sense of fun and detail, but not so much for creepy. More than two-thirds of the month to go before I can stop looking at the devil’s toy closet. This week I […]
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