tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-117153552024-03-07T00:53:37.653-08:00scribbles @ griffonage studiosgriffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.comBlogger126125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-36127085270527798652010-08-25T13:32:00.000-07:002010-08-26T12:56:58.179-07:00<span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;">H</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em>umor</em></span> <span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">may be defined as the kindly contemplation of the incongruities of </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">life, and the artistic expression thereof. </span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">~<span style="font-size: x-small;">Stephen Leacock</span>, <span style="font-size: x-small;">economist and </span></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">humorist (1869-1944)</span><br />
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</script>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-56575213102186460292010-01-09T16:14:00.000-08:002010-01-09T16:19:14.899-08:00<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="color: #134f5c;"><i><span style="color: #ea9999; font-size: x-large;">W<span style="font-size: large;">ho </span></span><span style="color: #4c1130;">will consider that no dictionary of a living tongue ever can be perfect, since, while it is hastening to publication, some words are budding, and some falling away; that a whole life cannot be spent upon syntax and etymology, and that even a whole life would not be sufficient; that he, whose design includes whatever language can express, must often speak of what he does not understand.</span></i></span></span><span style="color: #4c1130;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><span style="color: #134f5c;">~<strong>Samuel Johnson</strong>, lexicographer (1709-1784)</span> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Trebuchet MS;">x</span>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-33537688606734682252009-09-19T11:22:00.000-07:002009-09-19T11:31:32.086-07:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#660000;"><span style="color:#6666cc;">Favorite Art, Favorite Artist</span><br /></span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/j6afbl--ze8&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/j6afbl--ze8&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Back in the day, we used reel to reel recorders.<br />We studied the concept, the essence of time.<br />We valued simple gestures, the authentic actions.<br />Language was a fascination.<br />The craft was complicated, unknown, not instantaneous.<br />Back in the day.<br />What is art now?<br />We watch, we comment.<br />We do not know.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color:#ffffff;">x<br />x<br />x<br />x</span></span><span style="color:#ffffff;"> </span>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-61256777647878524602009-09-11T12:25:00.000-07:002009-09-11T17:29:47.251-07:00<img style="WIDTH: 170px; HEIGHT: 113px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380296495195206098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofdRjROE_Kuhk-GbMw4_yogk2fJC1wVQzats80B0_TzQbb3T_xFMFqJAPJBEgpTDDmfytzIw92567YHr5zO3E58B7NRBEnOc4HnKsH0G_wMh9ntyepPwZM3WKgnwrVGrDIaTDQg/s320/slices.jpg" /><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#33cc00;"><span style="font-size:180%;">La Soupe de Velours Vert for Plurk</span><br /></span></span>(Leek Soup)<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">A blended vegetable soup whenever the main ingredient ‘les poireaux’ (leeks) are in season. An elixir full of vitamins and minerals, and some “oligo-elements”. </span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"><span style="font-size:85%;">A favorite recipe (origin unclear) that I put together for the plurkfood web site way back when. It was never posted there, so I am sharing it with folks via the scribbles blog.<br /><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Green Velvet Soup was a purifier, in the French repertoire of home remedies. Eating these “oligo-elements” helps to detoxify the liver so one will not suffer from ‘mal au foie’ or even worse, the ‘crise de foie’.<br /><br />According to Mireille Guiliano, author of <em><strong>French Women Don’t Get Fat</strong></em>, leek soup is what French women eat/drink/live on when they want to shed the extra pound or two. The magical Leek Soup is, in her estimation, the Spartan alternative to overeating and for ‘recapturing your equilibrium from time to time’.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMaQ34mSmHswFcrUkFb5dccQFvrOIMXPtDFMEB2BMiJDZBQjlM5pMLW-A6DB1siuFOSmqQ2Abhl3P6tWLw6W0ZSW9OZ1MaVABYduIvN_QY4QIpF9XeTBw9ETlzE1eWBDf3R6TDFQ/s1600-h/greens.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 170px; HEIGHT: 113px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380296638999902018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMaQ34mSmHswFcrUkFb5dccQFvrOIMXPtDFMEB2BMiJDZBQjlM5pMLW-A6DB1siuFOSmqQ2Abhl3P6tWLw6W0ZSW9OZ1MaVABYduIvN_QY4QIpF9XeTBw9ETlzE1eWBDf3R6TDFQ/s320/greens.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;">La Soupe de Velours Vert (Green Velvet Soup)</span>, so named for its creamy green appearance after it has been blended with a “robot Marie” (a hand held mixer) or in a blender. Cooking this soup in the pressure cooker helps maintain its high level of vitamins, minerals and those elusive ‘oglio-elements’. In case you don’t have a pressure cooker, though, I will tell you how to make it stovetop just the same. </span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlvd_izdz61XSStV_pZ5Y0mhDdaAAqXx1WWLrCHAdM4xtgQ31mjOuw7R5PJnRt6qdwuMu8rdppOFYWkLQ2wUkBQN9qE5ThMmpT81ZGm2WtCAmn_HV4Wwlnou5MVI3s1Hz9ddpFAA/s1600-h/leeks.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 129px; HEIGHT: 170px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380297146184556578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlvd_izdz61XSStV_pZ5Y0mhDdaAAqXx1WWLrCHAdM4xtgQ31mjOuw7R5PJnRt6qdwuMu8rdppOFYWkLQ2wUkBQN9qE5ThMmpT81ZGm2WtCAmn_HV4Wwlnou5MVI3s1Hz9ddpFAA/s320/leeks.jpg" /></a><br /></div></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"><div><br /><br /><strong>Shopping List</strong>:<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">1. Leeks, about 1 kg (2 pounds)<br />2. Zucchini, or yellow summer squash (3-4 small ones, or a larger one w/o the pulp section)<br />3. Carrots, two or three nice orange ones<br />4. Potatoes, a couple of small ones<br />5. Tomatoes, four medium-sized<br />6. Spices: Herbes de Provence, sea salt (about 1 Tbsp), fresh ground pepper, bay leaf<br />7. Alternate spice mix might be a nice Italian Seasoning, like what is most readily available in the stores.<br /><br />(Add most any vegetable to this soup, or any left over veggie. I have in the past added spinach, sometimes green cabbage, chunks of winter squash, green bell peppers, and sweet onions).<br /></span><br /><br /><strong>Herbes de Provence<br /></strong><span style="font-size:85%;">(Dean and DeLuca has it…or in case you can use a prepared mix from the store):<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">* 3 tablespoons oregano leaves<br />* 3 tablespoons of marjoram leaves<br />* 3 tablespoons thyme leaves<br />* 1 teaspoon basil leaves<br />* 1 teaspoon sage leaf<br />* 3 tablespoons savory<br />* 2 tablespoons lavender flowers<br />* 1 teaspoon rosemary<br /><br />Combine and mix well. Store the mixture in a small airtight jar in cool location.<br /><br /><br /></span><strong>Soup Preparation</strong> - Short Version:<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Clean all vegetables well, throw in to pot and cook until tender; blend; and, serve.<br /></span><br /><strong>Soup Preparation</strong> - Long Version:<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Start by cleaning and rinsing the leeks well.<br />Leeks are a strange vegetable in that they trap some of the dirt they are grown in amongst the layers. To clean leeks, it isn’t difficult. T take a knife and starting about one inch from the rooted bottom, slide the blade in and pull straight up, slicing it open all the way to the top. Turn it one quarter turn and slice it up again—essentially cutting the leek into quarters without fully separating the plant. Holding the rooted end, wash fully (without having to deal with the mess of losing parts of it in to the sink). Then trim off the roots, and the very tips of the leeks, and discard those. Retain the dark green part of the leek, as it is very flavorful and gives the soup its beautiful color.<br /><br />Chop the leeks in to smaller pieces, about an inch or two wide, so that they will cook and blend easier. Add them to the pressure cooker/stew pot.<br /><br />Wash zucchini or summer squash, remove ends, chop and add to leeks.<br /><br />Peel potatoes and carrots, chop, add to pot.<br /><br />Wash and remove stem from tomatoes (or use one large can of tomatoes from store), add to pot.<br /><br />Add spices.<br />About 2 inches of water.</span><br /><br /><strong>Cooking Instructions</strong>:<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">If you are using a pressure cooker, put the lid on, seal it, and bring to a boil. Cook for seven minutes when it reaches pressure. After, remove from heat and run pot with cover on under cold water until pressure releases before attempting to open the pot.<br />If you prefer to make the soup in a stew pot, bring to boil, and simmer, uncovered for 20 to 30 min. until vegetables are all tender.<br />Once you have cooked the soup, either under pressure, or in a stew pot, be sure to remove the bay leaf, which is tough and will not blend.<br /></span><br /><strong>Serving Suggestion</strong>:<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Blend the soup either in a blender/food processor or with a hand held blender until it is a smooth green texture. It should appear like fine green velvet when finished. (You can, of course, eat the soup without blending, but it isn’t as nice to look at, and some people don’t like all the big chunks).</span><br /><br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA_0aSicTpo-a3XdysxcGO0OAbHxb9MSmKccejUwwTDXlBQK30LwvOioBzqnayvhfvLoKTkOutqhwbuelcYL2MJSjAklSYAs59ygNdVSzKMpEYjYazy-iTcKsxWfv8RUTzqsoXzQ/s1600-h/velvet.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 170px; HEIGHT: 159px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380297011949986930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA_0aSicTpo-a3XdysxcGO0OAbHxb9MSmKccejUwwTDXlBQK30LwvOioBzqnayvhfvLoKTkOutqhwbuelcYL2MJSjAklSYAs59ygNdVSzKMpEYjYazy-iTcKsxWfv8RUTzqsoXzQ/s320/velvet.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Top with sprig of fresh parsley, serve hot.<br />In Normandy, many will often put a tablespoon of ‘crème fraîche’ (sour cream) on the top as a garnish.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color:#009900;">Bon Appétit!</span><br /></span><br />(This soup also stores well frozen; to be unthawed and enjoyed later in the winter).</span> </div><div></div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">क्ष</span></div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">क्ष</span></div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">क्ष</span></div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">क्ष</span></div><div></span></div></div>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-66937142149493719792009-09-01T10:38:00.000-07:002009-09-01T10:50:13.258-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsqaUiScnfSucxveeSx0RKZM4DC12zf2pfOb3m4QnbcWYNFkLxyJ9D2-X0wlwCPVbEscRymmdPuNAdVShF7oO1iFpukt3HG5zSyVKobdJR64sZZZ3h8zZz90lFAJ7SB7TSn62y9A/s1600-h/life+is+swell+-+healthcare.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 293px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376556202132052290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsqaUiScnfSucxveeSx0RKZM4DC12zf2pfOb3m4QnbcWYNFkLxyJ9D2-X0wlwCPVbEscRymmdPuNAdVShF7oO1iFpukt3HG5zSyVKobdJR64sZZZ3h8zZz90lFAJ7SB7TSn62y9A/s320/life+is+swell+-+healthcare.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#993300;">The current healthcare reform debate in the United States succinctly summarized.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#663300;">Life is Swell (a comic strip) by Matt Groening</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;color:#663300;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;">x</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;">x</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;">x</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;color:#ffffff;">x</span>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-65803016423692550822009-08-21T08:34:00.000-07:002009-08-21T08:40:57.780-07:00<a href="http://imgur.com/SH0RP.gif"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 750px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 600px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://imgur.com/SH0RP.gif" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">When I grow up I want to have a degree in computer science.<br />That is all.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">क्ष</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">क्ष</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">क्ष</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">क्ष</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-52173803673208696542009-06-21T20:15:00.000-07:002009-06-21T20:50:54.011-07:00<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#660000;"><em>Nonsequitur: It’s the Way In Which We Artists Think<br /></em></span><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/q3w7w58CREY&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/q3w7w58CREY&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#660000;">I<span style="color:#333333;">t</span></span> <span style="font-size:100%;">all started this evening, when I walked into my bathroom and saw my beach towel spread out to dry, revealing a very pretty sand crab. Or a linear, stylized version of the segments of a crab’s body. The towel is actually very plush and I bought it on the Italian Mediterranean. Love the towel and the image. Which lead to thinking about crabs and then crabby… </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">Crabby Appleton<br /></span><em><span style="color:#333333;">My name is Crabby Appleton,<br />I'm rotten to the core.<br />I do a bad deed every day,<br />and sometimes three or four.<br />I can't stand fun for anyone,<br />I think good deeds are sappy,<br />I laugh with glee, it pleases me,<br />when everyone's unhappy. </span></em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#333333;">PS: Crabby’s a character from cartoon <a href="http://www.toonopedia.com/terrific.htm">Tom Terrific</a>. </span><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JonQvobx7cA&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JonQvobx7cA&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;">Be good, be nice, be cheerful.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">xxxxxxxxx<br /></span>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-86123861830855075522009-04-29T10:12:00.000-07:002009-04-29T10:30:34.321-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBd0K38uouxRQCypSzMK-RCVHru83-SpMii0BPEnXUm88WOp6kq7nZuY68tnL4EPGiCGWAW0MP8Emsl2HZ2a8fepLpnBcxP4NDL-BmJgfflA7p2VJWVfNcflmZZsqysO5dFcorNA/s1600-h/GrinDog.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330162865415007570" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBd0K38uouxRQCypSzMK-RCVHru83-SpMii0BPEnXUm88WOp6kq7nZuY68tnL4EPGiCGWAW0MP8Emsl2HZ2a8fepLpnBcxP4NDL-BmJgfflA7p2VJWVfNcflmZZsqysO5dFcorNA/s320/GrinDog.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#660000;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#660000;">Big Grin<br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#333333;">What makes everyday and every single thing a lot easier to handle, even in difficult times?<br />Why of course, a very best girl.<br />She’s the one.<br />The creature who has an endless positive attitude, someone who is always cheerful, willing to go and happy to please; a ready smile, a beaming heart, an infinite zest for life.<br />Yes indeed, my <em>BFFD</em>.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#333333;"></span>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-17645557439313113892009-04-18T13:50:00.000-07:002009-04-18T14:14:26.045-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPtGvcodpFdeyDESGD_Qu4Z3Kx_FecxD9vFCv1Y9_waO3qMrE6CieZ9LkBb0Qs-nLseoW3GRtH8e8YItsrOqfUOFMWPIw6k8cjFO_44TrdQKzntmssTMXCzTvzlGpM5D5oyBYhw/s1600-h/quailz.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326136881371518514" style="WIDTH: 113px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAPtGvcodpFdeyDESGD_Qu4Z3Kx_FecxD9vFCv1Y9_waO3qMrE6CieZ9LkBb0Qs-nLseoW3GRtH8e8YItsrOqfUOFMWPIw6k8cjFO_44TrdQKzntmssTMXCzTvzlGpM5D5oyBYhw/s320/quailz.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#999900;"><strong>Traffic and Change</strong></span><br /><br />Yes…we thought there had been a lot of flurry and frenzy lately, out on the back porch; very often ducking many low flying creatures whenever we sat in the Adirondacks. And come to find out, we were quite right.<br /><br />Apart from fending off those crazy woodpeckers who continually threatened to nest in the ceiling fan over the seating area (which has since been removed, because it was ugly and pointless however and not because the woodpeckers drove us to do it), we were apparently distracted from a much quieter activity in the lower stratus of the porch’s long backside stretch along the entire length of our home. The quails, our friends since we arrived in Arizona, were gently nesting in the thick brush of the terracotta rosemary pot and laying those lovely (delicious) small, spotted eggs under the rosemary’s fragrant umbrella.<br /><br />Imagine that the first scent you experience upon entering this world is the pleasant fragrance of fresh rosemary. Already your life is off to an amazing start!<br /><br />When we discovered seven eggs tucked carefully away in the pot this week, I voted noisily for an immediate omelet but suffered defeat to a louder and more convincing chorus from others who wish to see the process unfold as these spotted progeny morph from their present shelled form into little bird/quails.<br /><br />So the rosemary pot has been moved to the other side of the pool, near the oleander and under the sprawling Palo Verde trees, where momma and poppa quail can tend to the needs of their little ones without too much other interference.<br /><br />Meanwhile, I have a new, giant, ochre ceramic container and fresh-from-the-nursery, tender young rosemary plants growing on the back porch, in place of that old terracotta pot from California.<br /><br />All is well.<br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:78%;">To be continued….</span></em></span></div>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-52767524578181313552008-12-18T11:33:00.000-08:002009-01-11T12:30:16.836-08:00<span style="color:#ffffff;">n </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHoSoCD_apDrVZWAEc8-8r4QoRfW95QGbJB8YUMBZt2W5xs9IojJ9qxa_fzw7tXRt2fHK47kPrKrC19PwwYDajGdIYnRHQQ1pSWU9tX_HkkVw8Mr6TzfKlezPnkVKlR7nxz9fAw/s1600-h/plain.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281216584346978754" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHoSoCD_apDrVZWAEc8-8r4QoRfW95QGbJB8YUMBZt2W5xs9IojJ9qxa_fzw7tXRt2fHK47kPrKrC19PwwYDajGdIYnRHQQ1pSWU9tX_HkkVw8Mr6TzfKlezPnkVKlR7nxz9fAw/s320/plain.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="color:#000099;"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="color:#000099;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Disturbing Recurring Theme: </span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="color:#000099;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Spiritual Icons Containing Violent References</span> </span></span></div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="color:#000099;"></span><div><br />Lately my interests seem drawn to extraordinarily beautiful, meaningful spiritual icons which have somehow become entangled and poisoned by the politics of violence and war। Perhaps it is something in the air; the season of the holidays coupled with the fact that the global economies are simultaneously crumbling. Perhaps this, in combination with the shift in power from a leadership comprised of war mongers, liars and thieves to one which is hopefully commanded by hope, ethics and the spirit of working together versus divisionary thinking and gestures has prompted such a curiosity in me. </div><div><br /></div></span><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">My previous post discussed the beautiful, carefully assembled, artfully designed work of <a href="http://alfarrowcathedral.com/"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Al Farrow</span></a>.<br /><br />Just now my attention has been directed toward another mysterious phenomenon, in remote Southeast Asia, which has a mesmerizing sacred and remarkable historic essence and yet is tainted by the blight of contemporary hostilities. I am speaking about the Plain of Jars in Laos. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">XXXXXXXXXXXXX<br />XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX</span><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKxMwnFDv0xQ5ED0I2rE0oTfkDZsXCULBBwnUfGXKkMmJ-9aTN5xMZ6EOaXIi15xkQGn9Ug1OoD-jME9ZHzyc0yqf7RV5sn-jrGPM5Zx1zU_3kdjTHfzD1GyTNWlfazUogAsS-FA/s1600-h/poj.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281216322287659122" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKxMwnFDv0xQ5ED0I2rE0oTfkDZsXCULBBwnUfGXKkMmJ-9aTN5xMZ6EOaXIi15xkQGn9Ug1OoD-jME9ZHzyc0yqf7RV5sn-jrGPM5Zx1zU_3kdjTHfzD1GyTNWlfazUogAsS-FA/s320/poj.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></div><div></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">The Plain of Jars is a large group of historic cultural sites in </span><a title="Laos" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laos"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">Laos</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> containing thousands of stone jars, which lie scattered throughout the </span><a title="Xiangkhoang Plateau" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Xiangkhoang_Plateau"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">Xieng Khouang</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> plain in the </span><a title="Laos" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laos"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">Lao</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> Highlands at the northern end of the </span><a title="Annamese Cordillera" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Annamese_Cordillera"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">Annamese Cordillera</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">, the principal mountain range of </span><a title="Indochina" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indochina"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">Indochina</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">. In the context of the </span><a title="Vietnam War" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vietnam_War"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Vietnam </span><span style="color:#6600cc;">War</span></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> and the </span><a title="Secret War" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Secret_War"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Secret War</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">, the Plain of Jars typically refers to the entire Xieng Khouang plain rather than the cultural sites themselves.</span></div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">XXXXXXXXXXXXX<br />XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX<br /></span></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYhATTrScv1niIUJUWv6H2e_keVyxvzVNVlvs3J8HF6zh_vlhA7OFYult-2SGeR05mnIVCwfNSAcLEW0Wy2KFKRQTlTru9VQGzmESUyFQ9fK7UoEfK6M-JyLo2Xz0BBAx9aeI6g/s1600-h/POJ-Map.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281216812617132930" style="WIDTH: 305px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYhATTrScv1niIUJUWv6H2e_keVyxvzVNVlvs3J8HF6zh_vlhA7OFYult-2SGeR05mnIVCwfNSAcLEW0Wy2KFKRQTlTru9VQGzmESUyFQ9fK7UoEfK6M-JyLo2Xz0BBAx9aeI6g/s320/POJ-Map.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">XXXXXXXXXXXXX<br />XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Huge, mysterious stone jars are scattered in several groups on the high plains surrounding Phonsavan in northern <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laos"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Laos</span></a>. The jars are enormous, up to nine feet tall, the largest weighing 14 tons. Most are carved of sandstone, others of granite, conglomerate, or calcified coral. Some are round, others angular, and a few have disks that appear to be lids. Tools and human remains found inside and around the jars suggest their use and manufacture spanned centuries. The bulk of material dates from 500 B.C. to A.D. 800, and additional carbon dates are expected this summer.<br />Both the origin and purpose of these strange artifacts remain unknown। Their age is commonly estimated at 2000 years but erosion of the stone suggests they may be much more ancient; it has not yet been possible to date them accurately. Most of the remaining jars weigh between 1/2 and 1 ton; the largest is estimated to weigh six tons. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="color:#ffffff;">xxxxxxxxx</span><br /></div></span><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Archaeologists believe that the jars were used 1,500–2,000 years ago, by an ancient </span><a title="Mon-Khmer" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mon-Khmer"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">Mon-Khmer</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> race whose culture is now totally unknown. Most of the excavated material has been dated to around 500 BC–800 AD. Anthropologists and archeologists have theorized that the jars may have been used as funeral urns or perhaps storage for food. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><br />Lao stories and legends claim that there was a race of giants who once inhabited the area. Local legend tells of an ancient king called </span><a title="Khun Cheung (page does not exist)" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Khun_Cheung&action=edit&redlink=1"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">Khun Cheung</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">, who fought a long, victorious battle against his enemy. He supposedly created the jars to brew and store huge amounts of </span><a title="Lao lao" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lao_lao"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">lao lao</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> </span><a title="Rice wine" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rice_wine"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">rice wine</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> to celebrate his victory. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">XXXXXXXXXXXXX<br />XXXXXXXXXX</span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGof0fWe-w2J9K9ssedvpCxECMRmdPcekH0If1S26ZSzRqG6ppt_-25DWMqJiEVAB3qCxlgDPw5LTuyTpJrNb7PoBpCjTfvKlY6ZGOG_5o2MH_xfV0UqTeEUtxM04w4V4BLDYiMg/s1600-h/fog-POJ.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281217402494391778" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGof0fWe-w2J9K9ssedvpCxECMRmdPcekH0If1S26ZSzRqG6ppt_-25DWMqJiEVAB3qCxlgDPw5LTuyTpJrNb7PoBpCjTfvKlY6ZGOG_5o2MH_xfV0UqTeEUtxM04w4V4BLDYiMg/s320/fog-POJ.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></div><div></div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">XXXXXXXXXXXXX<br />XXXXXXXXXX<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">The first Westerner to survey, study and catalogue the Plain of Jars was a </span><a title="France" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/France"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">French</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> archaeologist, </span><a title="Madeleine Colani (page does not exist)" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Madeleine_Colani&action=edit&redlink=1"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">Madeleine Colani</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> of the </span><a title="École française d'Extrême Orient" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%89cole_fran%C3%A7aise_d%27Extr%C3%AAme_Orient"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">École française d'Extrême Orient</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> in the 1930s. She excavated the area of jars with her team and found a nearby cave with human remains, including burned bones and ash. Her work is still the most comprehensive although there have been other excavations.<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">During the Vietnamese civil war this part of Laos was heavily damaged by both the North Vietnamese Army (who claimed they weren't there) and the U.S. Air Force (who claimed they weren't bombing them). During the heavy bombardment of the late 1960's the local population was reduced to living in caves; the Plain of Jars is still pockmarked with huge bomb craters. The entire region is still unsafe due to massive quantities of unexploded ordinance which still litters the province. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><br />An American bomb damaged the cave during the </span><a title="Vietnam War" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vietnam_War"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Vietnam War</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">, when the </span><a title="Pathet Lao" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pathet_Lao"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">Pathet Lao</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> used it as a stronghold — the surrounding area still has trench systems and bomb craters. The land is littered with metal shrapnel. The town of Xieng Khouang was utterly destroyed during the fighting between the Pathet Lao and </span><a title="United States" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_States"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">American</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> backed anti-communist troops. A new town was built in the mid 1970s, known to foreigners as </span><a title="Phonsavan" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phonsavan"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#6600cc;">Phonsavan</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><br />Xieng Khouang Province is one of the most heavily bombed places on earth. Between 1964 and 1973, the United States dumped four billion pounds of bombs on the country in a "secret war" against Pathet Lao and North Vietnamese communists. Up to a third of them never exploded, and they litter the land today. While generally safe to tread upon, buried UXO (unexploded ordnance) can detonate when an erratic fuse is inadvertently triggered. </span></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="color:#ffffff;">XXXXXXXXXXXXX<br />XXXXXXXXXX</span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5vihGcvNTIRBTb7Mwrd5W62bci6xW_IfOsL7VwGXl7XIS4yd2MEU5DjhmpgGMqOSQvu6vgVrXdwh4_OVcLs10RkaM9m8CE0c4FY8ZYowleG-ROIijW2YiVXwf81o4OuQ2dQNYkw/s1600-h/jar.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281217164973616258" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5vihGcvNTIRBTb7Mwrd5W62bci6xW_IfOsL7VwGXl7XIS4yd2MEU5DjhmpgGMqOSQvu6vgVrXdwh4_OVcLs10RkaM9m8CE0c4FY8ZYowleG-ROIijW2YiVXwf81o4OuQ2dQNYkw/s320/jar.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Archaeologists are certain the Plain of Jars is one of Southeast Asia's most important archaeological sites; it is one with more questions than answers। The images are haunting on so many levels. There is a religious, if inexplicable, significance as well as a disturbing presence of refuse and vandalism left behind by the ravages of the Vietnam war. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;">क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;">क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"><span class="">XXXXXXXXXXXXX<br />XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX<br />XXXXXXXXXXक्स्क्स्क्स्क्स</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;">क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;">क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;">क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;">क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></div><div></div>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-48519301420018618952008-11-29T10:47:00.000-08:002008-11-29T11:07:02.829-08:00<div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;">xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#ffffff;">xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;">Art Religion War<br /></div></span><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGlNR2RbebIhKLVSk6NpAyWaanmiY7gyzA8QbF107WOzU8mrt0C8859g0_FO_YiyTGiIz4Cx2rx9im6UlzatkkSqGzDeDGDiZ2PG8SZw2CwqiMEzQVuABZ_y_vOBppjjkXjzV4w/s1600-h/alfarrow-deyoungsf.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274153147595176242" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGlNR2RbebIhKLVSk6NpAyWaanmiY7gyzA8QbF107WOzU8mrt0C8859g0_FO_YiyTGiIz4Cx2rx9im6UlzatkkSqGzDeDGDiZ2PG8SZw2CwqiMEzQVuABZ_y_vOBppjjkXjzV4w/s320/alfarrow-deyoungsf.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;">Given the disturbing events which have unfolded in <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/29/world/asia/29mumbai.html?th&emc=th"><span style="color:#990000;">Mumbai</span></a>, as well as the overarching political issues with regard to religion and its’ interference with governing in the United States over the past eight years, the artwork by Al Farrow seems particularly relevant.</span> </span><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9frUNUmgpjuf0dj3lYrxrttaTAQCM1zKeVzZb8haNeS9kyZMZlc1UBz4SHUWCTtHqqEdgd0HrPip8k_bVStXRSAOBX82kQXjf-WgAiaWTKI6hZy5xIIlMicot1V2KT3MLF6YuXQ/s1600-h/al-farrow-religious-trifecta.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274153492405412242" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9frUNUmgpjuf0dj3lYrxrttaTAQCM1zKeVzZb8haNeS9kyZMZlc1UBz4SHUWCTtHqqEdgd0HrPip8k_bVStXRSAOBX82kQXjf-WgAiaWTKI6hZy5xIIlMicot1V2KT3MLF6YuXQ/s320/al-farrow-religious-trifecta.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">If you have ever been uneasy when visiting an ages old cathedral, synagogue or mosque (now tourist destination) in one of the major cities in Europe, Asia or even in the Americas; if contemporary religion concerning/disconcerting in the way that organized religion is applied as a means to exclude, kill and condemn so many innocents, perhaps this remarkable art work by <a href="http://www.alfarrowcathedral.com/index.php"><span style="color:#990000;">San Francisco artist Al Farrow</span></a>, may explain, comfort and perhaps even serve to express a contemporary perspective of the religious conviction which it represent. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyY2VkuxptX_KDdULN7_zVcv_72ydhbT7fpnEoPvVyY7b3hic0rQk1hEfqj8fGmcXZGpLusVbmWY4oMPcD8g9KIXvikeq3KFZb-xQC440mEiYaYouwYtEz8AHzBlN79Ugfg5T-7A/s1600-h/al-farrow-bulletreliquiary.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274153661293855506" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyY2VkuxptX_KDdULN7_zVcv_72ydhbT7fpnEoPvVyY7b3hic0rQk1hEfqj8fGmcXZGpLusVbmWY4oMPcD8g9KIXvikeq3KFZb-xQC440mEiYaYouwYtEz8AHzBlN79Ugfg5T-7A/s320/al-farrow-bulletreliquiary.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">A recent trip to Europe found me unnerved by the sensation that I was surrounded by walls filled with the ashes and bones of saints. Even more disquieting, is the realization that all of these massive monuments to gods and governments/regimes have become essentially meaningless tourist destinations, devoid of the understanding of the original use and intent of the construction. They now serve to generate revenue from the masses of vacationers who pour through the entrances daily, simply to gaze, gawk and examine in an oh so irreverent, if unintentional way.</span><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifdLdsNvUKvPzI1gG3Dl76x8RG5rEGja9ASSSk13FRAUniI2AWFZKKhQsC5t3vBjhnTbs_9o6hheLlhTlWdYKOXxW2Sb5yjBWB-q7qdb67ucrGtTcoRAYpE5a5h6d2-6HfXEk6yA/s1600-h/a-farrow-cathedral.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274153276738063202" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifdLdsNvUKvPzI1gG3Dl76x8RG5rEGja9ASSSk13FRAUniI2AWFZKKhQsC5t3vBjhnTbs_9o6hheLlhTlWdYKOXxW2Sb5yjBWB-q7qdb67ucrGtTcoRAYpE5a5h6d2-6HfXEk6yA/s320/a-farrow-cathedral.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Most recently <span style="color:#990000;"><a href="http://synapsedigi.com/al_farrow_07/index.htm"><span style="color:#990000;">Al Farrow</span></a> <span style="color:#666666;">exhibits this work at the</span> <a href="http://www.famsf.org/deyoung/calendar/day.asp?calendarid=4257"><span style="color:#990000;">De Young Museum in San Francisco</span></a></span>. <em>In the Name of God: War, Religion, and the Reliquaries of Al Farrow</em>, is constructed from bullets and gun parts. An accomplished sculptor committed to recording societal ills through his artistic practice, Farrow often approaches his work by adopting the visual language of a historical period and updating the imagery or materials to make cogent observations about contemporary society.</span><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNwn_aOdE3iu6r5SFeLSPgVtZj3-LmjBgu4DFza2gnT6uQDuFmGjVxS0Ou3dcZun4EFeYGdJ8QMBhAI_JZZyozNQNRPfgmwi8HRjCaYGV3YcEXrfxe5FYYiBsAuPAa8JLCj7RMmw/s1600-h/al-farrow.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274153834384729810" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNwn_aOdE3iu6r5SFeLSPgVtZj3-LmjBgu4DFza2gnT6uQDuFmGjVxS0Ou3dcZun4EFeYGdJ8QMBhAI_JZZyozNQNRPfgmwi8HRjCaYGV3YcEXrfxe5FYYiBsAuPAa8JLCj7RMmw/s320/al-farrow.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p align="center"></p><p align="center"></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स</span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;">क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्</span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span></p>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-54160334073877167512008-11-21T17:31:00.001-08:002008-11-21T17:48:42.387-08:00<span style="color:#ffffff;">क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्क्ष्</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;">xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx</span><br /><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.plurk.com/"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#990000;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">Plurk </span></strong></a></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#990000;"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#990000;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HVmX3Y87iVQ"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271288600783325058" style="WIDTH: 128px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 96px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXehW7nlB7BJjUZ2RcRA2IpV9k5OHyEm8-ACi1jk55fkvTsDCD2OmskwEYe6nKV64b3VYsTmQJGi4imaJyr3sT4K_IAFPkRRWt4wqQ3d0g7xbqIswGr_B21vCJtHxrIuVI0e4JzA/s320/squireplurk.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#990000;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="http://www.plurk.com/"></span><br /></span></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">If you haven’t visited, you really should. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">If you haven’t tried it yet, oh go ahead.<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">This lively cyber world is rich with so many beautiful ideas,<br />a plethora of creative people<br />and it exists on an endless and marvelous timeline;<br />a remarkably advanced and sophisticated version<br />of Twitter.<br />Take it from </span><a href="http://www.plurk.com/SquireHogg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#cc0000;">SquireHogg</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">.</span><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SJjC9qdEhJo"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271288739600603634" style="WIDTH: 195px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 195px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0AGvhR63gpc7dRRVhFsHsZu9txzvvWbzy3c6td51UqbYFkHtCe44LmLom2rbW01EEM8PSLMVcUG18UgQXHOrf9FlvY-9_YGuWm3AfFGfVpStWEcaitt4kGqoJW2TkuX3ghE-bBw/s320/squirehogg.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">ps: click on the images to see some wonderful video.<br /></span><br /><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><span style="color:#ffffff;">क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स्क्स</span></p><p></p><p></p>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-58149479644825866072008-11-02T09:19:00.000-08:002008-11-02T09:27:27.921-08:00<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#339999;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#339999;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#339999;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#339999;">Three days and counting...</span><br /></em>From the email bag, a California rancher’s point of view.<br />Please vote, if you haven’t done so already.<br /></span><br />................................................................................<br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#999999;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#6666cc;">Post Turtle</span><br /><span style="color:#333333;">A 75-year old Texas rancher caught his hand in a gate while working cattle, cutting it severely. While suturing the cut, the doctor struck up a conversation with the old man. As most conversations go these days, the topic got around to Sarah Palin.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"><br />The old rancher said, "She's a post turtle." Not being familiar with the term, the doctor asked him what a post turtle is.<br /><br />The rancher said, "When you're driving down a country road and you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that's a post turtle." The rancher saw a puzzled look on the doctor's face, so he continued.<br /><br />"You know she didn't get up there by herself, she doesn't belong up there, she doesn't know what to do while she is up there, and you just wonder what kind of dumb ass put her up there to begin with...”<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#333333;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#999999;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;color:#999999;"></span>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-65467955985384039382008-10-31T11:05:00.000-07:002008-10-31T11:19:29.630-07:00<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;">Five days and counting...</span><br /><em><span style="color:#333333;">A posting from the contents of the e-mail box today.<br />Please vote.</span></em></span><span style="color:#333333;"><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#000066;">...........................................</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;color:#000066;"></span><br /><span style="color:#000066;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:courier new;">Dear Red States:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">We've decided we're leaving. We intend to form our own country, and we're taking the other Blue States with us. In case you aren't aware, that includes California, Hawaii, Oregon, Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and the entire Northeast. We believe this split will be beneficial to the nation, and especially to the people of the new country of New California.</span><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:courier new;"><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000066;">To sum up briefly: You get Texas, Oklahoma and all the slave states. We get stem cell research and the best beaches. We get the Statue of Liberty. You get Dollywood. We get Intel and Microsoft. You get WorldCom. We get Harvard. You get Ole' Miss. We get 85 percent of America's venture capital and entrepreneurs. You get Alabama. We get two-thirds of the tax revenue; you get to make the red states pay their fair share.</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000066;"><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">Since our aggregate divorce rate is 22 percent lower than the Christian Coalition's, we get a bunch of happy families. Please be aware that Nuevo California will be pro-choice and anti-war, and we're going to want all our citizens back from Iraq at once. If you need people to fight, ask your evangelicals.</span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;">With the Blue States in hand, we will have firm control of 80 percent of the country's fresh water, more than 90 percent of the pineapple and lettuce, 92 percent of the nation's fresh fruit, 95 percent of America's quality wines (you can serve French wines at state dinners) 90 percent of all cheese, 90 percent of the high tech industry, most of the U।S. low-sulfur coal, all living redwoods, sequoias and condors, all the Ivy and Seven Sister schools plus Stanford, Cal Tech and MIT.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">With the Red States, on the other hand, you will have to cope with 88 percent of all obese Americans (and their projected health care costs), 92 percent of all U.S. mosquitoes, nearly 100 percent of the tornadoes, 90 percent of the hurricanes, 99 percent of all Southern Baptists, virtually 100 percent of all televangelists, Rush Limbaugh, Bob Jones University, Clemson and the University of Georgia. We get Hollywood and Yosemite, thank you.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Additionally, 38 percent of those in the Red states believe Jonah was actually swallowed by a whale, 62 percent believe life is sacred unless we're discussing the death penalty or gun laws, 44 percent say that evolution is only a theory, 53 percent that Saddam was involved in 9/11 and 61 percent of you crazy bastards believe you are people with higher morals then we lefties.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Finally, we're taking the good pot, too. You can have that dirt weed they grow in Mexico.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Peace out,</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;">Blue States</span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Courier New;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span><span style="font-family:courier new;"></span>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-66923542041134509632008-10-24T11:07:00.000-07:002008-10-24T11:22:36.625-07:00<p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#999999;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><em></em></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#999999;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><em></em></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#999999;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#9999ff;">The darkest places</span> <span style="color:#666666;">in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis. <span style="font-size:85%;">~Dante Alighieri</span></span></em></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#999999;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />The presidential election in our “United States” is days away. Given the unprecedented political and economic events of the moment, who among us could possibly be undecided in these tumultuous times?<br /><br />I must admit that I am in awe when I hear people say that they truly have not yet made a decision in this election. What makes people back away from confrontation and change? And what in the world does it take to light a fire under citizens of a country which was founded on freedom of expression, the right to speak one’s mind and the liberty to act as one chooses?<br /><br />There was a time in my personal life when the world seemed to be doling out a heavy dose of acid rain on my existence; the people who were operating the controls were having massive fits of schadenfraude on a regular and energetic basis at my expense. Those whom I had thought were my friends, or at least had presumed to be my associates seemed to quickly disappear as if sucked up into a vast vacuum of noncommittal safety. A kind beigeness overtook the landscape and the inertia and process of crashing and burning, a freefall from grace occurred rapidly and unkindly… while many who could have helped stood silently by hoping not be swallowed up by the demonic purveyors of cruelty themselves.<br /><br />The aura of a beige landscape still evokes a deep overwhelming nausea in my mind’s memory, even with the passage of time.<br /><br />And now, watching as the United States economy melts down, as people are losing their homes in droves, as savings and retirement accounts are reduced nearly to worthlessness, as my future takes on yet another quality of potential bleakness, I have to wonder why we all sit motionless and watch in horror while such monstrosities occur?<br /><br />Is it because the shock and awe of a situation is simply paralyzing?<br /><br />Being paralyzed under these circumstances seems a sure fire way to make oneself a target for ruin. Movement seems to be the appropriate survival response. I hope and pray that even the most sluggish will feel a call to action. Hopefully it will be considered action and not simply reaction.<br /><br />Proaction. A word first made popular by the corporate world. Proaction has never been a better, more apposite word, or one which has obviously been less appropriately implemented as is evidenced by the multitude of very scary conditions now crashing into place and spiraling beyond our control.<br /><br />Now that we have been non-proactive, how shall we proceed to pick up the pieces and plug the holes? And furthermore, can we? I am at a loss for an answer; so I move to look for answers that may emerge with the friction generated by nudging the static.<br /><br />Wake up now all you curmudgeons! And abandon thy hiding places.<br />Move.<br />Shake.</span><br /><br /></span></span></p>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-74808609621412899292008-10-12T10:36:00.000-07:002008-10-12T10:39:34.989-07:00<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;">The Time Has Come, Almost</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#666666;">Here I sit, with the loose ends of so many projects, plans and dreams staring me straight in the eye. And I blink. I look away. I wait. I go for a walk in the desert. I plan a trip. I visualize living in another world.<br /><br />A half written book screams out to me; the fragmented manuscript occupies a great deal of space in my mind, on two hard drives and in my workspace. Yet, somehow, amidst the recent life challenges which have presented themselves for immediate inspection and resolution, I seem to have lost the emotional fire and drive to continue. The issues which once fueled my writing frenzy for this particular bizarre subject have long passed and I look back at the seemingly once fertile fodder and its’ frighteningly comical players as simply annoying and pitiful. Having successfully moved on, the project seems more like passé catharsis material than anything else. Still its contents are funny, scary and contain dramatic life lessons which might be usefully shared with others. Will it ever be completed? Remains to be seen.<br /><br />And then there’s the temporarily closed exhibit space which currently has no plans to reopen due to the ailing economy and the sparse opportunities within the current local arts communities in which we reside. Things are tight, competition is stiff, neighbors are cautiously unfriendly and the art market itself is so soft as to be unreliable, to be unfeasible. However, I loved hosting the exhibit spaces which have embodied a significant share of the Griffonage Studios persona and hope to be able to continue that effort at some point in the near future. But now? It is unclear.<br /><br />It feels as if the time has come to begin making decisions and taking action. Perhaps that motivation arrives with the warm glow of a stimulating autumn onset. Interesting, constructive benchmarks have begun to emerge lately in my personal landscape, much as I have dreamed that they would, over time. All of a sudden, answers which were so fuzzy in months past are beginning to clearly make themselves obvious and evident.<br /><br />Perhaps resolutions are beginning to present themselves, are becoming available for my consideration.<br />Almost.</span></span><br /><span style="color:#666666;"><br /></span><br /><p><span style="color:#666666;"></span> </p><p><span style="color:#666666;"></span> </p><p><span style="color:#666666;"></span> </p><p><span style="color:#666666;"></span> </p><p><span style="color:#666666;"></span> </p><p><span style="color:#666666;"></span> </p><p><span style="color:#666666;"> </p><br /><br /><br /></span>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-27875579206758048802008-10-08T15:45:00.000-07:002008-10-08T18:51:59.089-07:00<span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><span style="color:#6600cc;"></span></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><span style="color:#6600cc;"></span></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><em><span style="font-size:130%;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ed-k1xOCsMs"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Which One?</span> </a><br /></span></em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Unclear as to whether I had heard it quite correctly, I watched the presidential debates on PBS last night and tried to focus on the more substantial content being exchanged by John McCain and Barack Obama. However, it seems that I was not the only one who heard what I thought had been a jaw dropping condescension, perhaps a gentleman’s slur; it turns out that indeed I heard John McCain referring to Barack Obama as “<em><strong>that one</strong></em>”.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Oh yes he did.<br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;">So please have a look at what others who are far more articulate than I have written today.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><br />Here are few selections:<br /></span></span><a href="http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/the_daily_dish/2008/10/that-one.html"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#9999ff;"><strong><em>Andrew Sullivan at the Atlantic </em></strong></span></span></a><br /><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/10/07/that-one-mccain-calls-oba_n_132802.html"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#9999ff;"><strong><em>The Huffington Post </em></strong></span></a><br /><a href="http://blogs.abcnews.com/politicalradar/2008/10/debating-mccain.html"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#9999ff;"><strong><em>ABC News </em></strong></span></a><br /><a href="http://firstread.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2008/10/07/1509399.aspx"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#9999ff;"><strong><em>MSNBC</em></strong></span></a><span style="color:#9999ff;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><strong><em> </em></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/08/opinion/08dowd.html?th&emc=th"><strong><em>Maureen Dowd at NYT</em></strong></a></span><br /></span><a href="http://www.thatone08.com/"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#9999ff;"><em><strong>That One</strong></em> </span></span></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><br />As if this were not enough, it has now been reported that today, the chairman of the Lehigh County Republican Party, <a href="http://voices.washingtonpost.com/the-trail/2008/10/08/cindy_mccain.html"><em><span style="color:#9999ff;">William Platt</span></em></a>, implored a crowd to work hard to elect McCain or wake up November 5 to see "Barack Obama, Barack <strong><em>Hussein</em></strong> Obama," as the president.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">This, as if he were one of those creepy “terrorist bad guys” that the Bush administration has encouraged and endlessly persuaded us all to hate and fear. Appealing to the deep seated racism still prevalent in many corners of the United States; a last ditch effort to diminish the worthy, articulate, intelligent and civilized opponent. Another subtle smear cast forth openly and enunciated with oh such graciousness.<br /><br />When the going gets desperate, the desperate apparently reach for whatever new and appalling lows will fuel the cause, or so it would appear. If the overall current conditions in our culture are not disturbing enough, perhaps this one additional effort at degradation will serve as the last straw to illustrate exactly how disgusting things have become.<br /><br />Please exercise your right and privilege to vote in November. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></p></span><p></p><p></p><p></p>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-30101057806172159802008-09-20T08:46:00.000-07:002008-09-20T13:15:28.679-07:00<span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ff6600;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">ORANGIE</span>: Our Daily Ritual</span> </span></span><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><span style="color:#339999;">E</span></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"><em>ven</em></span> at 5:00 am in the heat of the Sonoran Desert summer, it has become too warm for our nearly 14 year old dog to walk the sandy paths near our home. Where once we regularly hiked three to four miles every morning, this aging behemoth simply can’t endure the stress any longer.<br /></span></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7AS-EK2UeWUXCIWVCz5AjSohT_nvSSiR5vb0W71M6XLueCL90qpy1V06-5QboeNe26PWwpoObFuN5YgZxojuavoD9Rogt_lc_6-m78Neq-lMNgKla34W9fx0GeexH0s7qTmR2HA/s1600-h/orangie1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248132105351270466" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7AS-EK2UeWUXCIWVCz5AjSohT_nvSSiR5vb0W71M6XLueCL90qpy1V06-5QboeNe26PWwpoObFuN5YgZxojuavoD9Rogt_lc_6-m78Neq-lMNgKla34W9fx0GeexH0s7qTmR2HA/s320/orangie1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9966;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;">W</span><span style="font-size:85%;">hen</span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;">we relocated to Arizona from Northern California several years ago, the dear old dog and I were accustomed to a brisk walk and/or hill climb every morning in the forests which surrounded our home there. But we came to the desert during one of its’ wettest monsoon seasons ever on record and our morning ritual may have caused the dear old pooch to contract Valley Fever; in any case she was stricken with it almost as soon as we arrived. Valley Fever is a nasty condition; a fungus which grows inside the lungs and can spread, much like tuberculosis, to other parts of the body (i.e. muscles and vital organs) to take up its’ lethal residence. Even now, she continues to test positive for it, but in very minute amounts. We have her on a fungi static drug and that seems to keep the disease at bay, although its’ presence remains in her system.</span><br /></span></span><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAqarWJuFVGVtoHZbeh3SpE9CHIRMNWUhGz7QGOLGeDD81O-5CPZpeIrVPH87KnTnbU7E4Ohyphenhyphen0BzZTCCTWMxS3JYJU_9J1WXsPQF9jHZuZaMWdJl21KJcJUNOA548YAQIiiVr3Ng/s1600-h/gotit.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248133739582776962" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAqarWJuFVGVtoHZbeh3SpE9CHIRMNWUhGz7QGOLGeDD81O-5CPZpeIrVPH87KnTnbU7E4Ohyphenhyphen0BzZTCCTWMxS3JYJU_9J1WXsPQF9jHZuZaMWdJl21KJcJUNOA548YAQIiiVr3Ng/s320/gotit.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9966;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">D</span><em><span style="font-size:85%;">uring</span></em></span> this time, we also learned about the abundance of opportunists in the greater Tucson area who pose as veterinarians. What a scam that profession has developed! Having lived for so long in a rural area, we were surprised and appalled to see what has morphed from the practice of animal care into a heartless corporate industry designed to take full advantage of pet lovers and WASPs with seemingly plentiful retirement funds. Several thousand dollars and the navigation of a number of predatory veterinary offices and hospitals in Tucson were required before a satisfactory remedy was found for our dear dog.<br /></span></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtg-Z2xHT1wb74EozKK5KAQqZ_7-nbB1sNAtvaoC3NORTn_SCVsf4L_OIF89hn1G0QO8HEeCU48LQB-q-2inwM-5PUzGw-prKTY11zhLaFZqjr1tc2wJfq0_9_VOIvrBK5GwV6w/s1600-h/orangemouth.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248134440560396290" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijtg-Z2xHT1wb74EozKK5KAQqZ_7-nbB1sNAtvaoC3NORTn_SCVsf4L_OIF89hn1G0QO8HEeCU48LQB-q-2inwM-5PUzGw-prKTY11zhLaFZqjr1tc2wJfq0_9_VOIvrBK5GwV6w/s320/orangemouth.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#ff9966;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">A</span><em>s</em></span></span> it often does, it seems that the fever, though mainly receding, has taken up residence in our dog’s adjacent shoulder and front leg muscles, causing her to tire easily and to have less endurance for long hauls. I have worried that we might walk too far one day and not be able to get back. And since old dog weighs 97 pounds, carrying her home would not be an option for me. So we have taken to walking shorter distances in the mornings and supplementing her regimen with a feisty round or two of an afternoon game we call “Orangie”.<br /><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#339999;">T</span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><em>hough</em></span></span> it sounds rather sporty and perhaps sophisticates in the canine realm, “Orangie” is basically an upgraded version of “keep away”. That is, the adults who are present around the edge of our pool, pick up a little orange squeak toy (which is shaped like a ball and has two stubby feet and two little horns) and toss it back and forth. The high pitched screech made by the little orange orb (about the size of a softball) causes our sound sensitive dog to be entranced and she does whatever possible to try and take the little orange fellow from us. We in turn, trick her into running all around, diving into the water and basically exhausting herself in the endless pursuit of “Orangie”.<br /></span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNPt-_vlk5BLFhAjHEZsZYce80RFkmGus8FOygPR4S7dgN78rUtZw0rjKWkTQqr_EunmFyzqmB3LmYespLbi0lFKROwI2u8PpQCHoCvyyZCD-micfdC7UkXCX0pYE6Rf5sj_UXfw/s1600-h/orangie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248130980869821346" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNPt-_vlk5BLFhAjHEZsZYce80RFkmGus8FOygPR4S7dgN78rUtZw0rjKWkTQqr_EunmFyzqmB3LmYespLbi0lFKROwI2u8PpQCHoCvyyZCD-micfdC7UkXCX0pYE6Rf5sj_UXfw/s320/orangie.jpg" border="0" /></a> </span></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;"><div><br /><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"><span style="color:#ff6666;">B</span><em><span style="font-size:85%;">y</span></em></span> staying wet and cool, she is able to play longer and exercise her lungs more. She feels very special to have so much activity and attention centered around her. As well, the old dog gets enough exercise to keep her mature self spry, without overdoing it.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"><em><span style="font-size:180%;color:#339999;">A</span>t</em></span> our house, we all love a good vigorous game of “Orangie” and play it as often as our schedules allow, certainly every day that we are in Arizona during the toasty summer months. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div></span></span> </div></div>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-92191106681183216602008-09-18T19:28:00.000-07:002008-09-18T20:24:55.371-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha7B9E0mW103J6k9QPUzLl7PMffeIkRkPu17rWpIaWr2nB-JwNmsBhmHzHRcexajJB3SmDsDynV2bfRQoZzJzpevdUZ03pVBfU0StbOaaZv5ReeqLXSwhzewZPTaqvpl_IDel_IA/s1600-h/organfleur.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247556065515123794" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha7B9E0mW103J6k9QPUzLl7PMffeIkRkPu17rWpIaWr2nB-JwNmsBhmHzHRcexajJB3SmDsDynV2bfRQoZzJzpevdUZ03pVBfU0StbOaaZv5ReeqLXSwhzewZPTaqvpl_IDel_IA/s320/organfleur.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#009900;">Nothing Too Intense</span><br /><p><em><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">It</span></em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"> </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#666666;">is time for an update to the blogs. Actually an update is long overdue. And yet I sit idle and without inspiration. Speaking freely, talking out loud and proclaiming one’s ideas seems entirely out of place.</span> </span></span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirujtqPg9W_NVrwuRc_aRvSUpw8r2HAnSA6HU00-GuNFzzP84_EjXeIhR5bNljtO3ftbuviHkHsVmSbeZ8Hb-PNrkaoUgVfQY6zCDFcCJqqqNcl3thNzAXswucVUjykFnkSlmeSw/s1600-h/nopales.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247559857643337970" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirujtqPg9W_NVrwuRc_aRvSUpw8r2HAnSA6HU00-GuNFzzP84_EjXeIhR5bNljtO3ftbuviHkHsVmSbeZ8Hb-PNrkaoUgVfQY6zCDFcCJqqqNcl3thNzAXswucVUjykFnkSlmeSw/s320/nopales.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#999900;"><em>A<span style="font-size:85%;">rt</span></em></span>ists, creative thinkers and innovative citizens should be loudly commenting; spelling out the future. All the same I find that I am essentially mute. Stopped and in awe. Perhaps it could be seen as a sort of psycho-social paralysis. The world seems to be crumbling all around us; financially and ethically we all seem lost.<br /></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkq3bXgtV1sDSGzedte_HYQ8mdWOO0uhJj6og1yHtW4uyGHonS4MT0LyGi9pHWRDjZb2v4lsW50ffJ9rzvN49JcmqfA4DxawNH-t1aG46RIa1sRGZ04u45AzEl6_Kvwrecyj766A/s1600-h/hedgehog.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247557916407517426" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkq3bXgtV1sDSGzedte_HYQ8mdWOO0uhJj6og1yHtW4uyGHonS4MT0LyGi9pHWRDjZb2v4lsW50ffJ9rzvN49JcmqfA4DxawNH-t1aG46RIa1sRGZ04u45AzEl6_Kvwrecyj766A/s320/hedgehog.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#cc66cc;"><em><span style="font-size:130%;">Y</span><span style="font-size:100%;">et</span></em></span> <span style="font-size:85%;">in the face of this extraordinary chaos, I feel virtually unmotivated to do more than hope for the best, to withdraw and protect my own little world from further damage. Sitting quietly, observing the world at large and making simple motions which closely jive with my personal values are the only appropriate gestures for the time being. </span></span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcHBcGq9EMAgOt6OkUR_y9giuykDQyx5eTL691n443rzbHJOhJ-9ZB4P9ugN8zd-yxJwHTxDCh7RhsUCiaeNNyyH3Dp1c7I_Wt77-40kRs5y5LfkjMTTwcnelsq-mQh2eluxBAw/s1600-h/barrelfleur.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247561999562619938" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYcHBcGq9EMAgOt6OkUR_y9giuykDQyx5eTL691n443rzbHJOhJ-9ZB4P9ugN8zd-yxJwHTxDCh7RhsUCiaeNNyyH3Dp1c7I_Wt77-40kRs5y5LfkjMTTwcnelsq-mQh2eluxBAw/s320/barrelfleur.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></p><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkq3bXgtV1sDSGzedte_HYQ8mdWOO0uhJj6og1yHtW4uyGHonS4MT0LyGi9pHWRDjZb2v4lsW50ffJ9rzvN49JcmqfA4DxawNH-t1aG46RIa1sRGZ04u45AzEl6_Kvwrecyj766A/s1600-h/hedgehog.jpg"></a></span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"><em>Lo</em></span>ud, annoying public actions seem almost dangerous in this unstable political climate. And so dear readers, I wish you peace, clarity of mind and safety in all that you do, while posting a few favorite photographs from the file. In this instance, art is a warm, fattening indulgence. Simple beauty and visual intensity is quietly offered to augment solace and comfort. Let’s survive and live to fight another day.<br /><br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-50719709226641685322008-08-13T13:53:00.000-07:002008-08-13T18:31:41.743-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDyvB5jjTMh5WsxRfrGrO5OdyIojD8T99xaQ_-O54ssdmKQg-nLWraLtqLLLvJDwd-VkAanJRN_0xoXgv-OdO4tGitnp7MF4FGjQv4EoBIUkCH62qDFlnDXV2wqg_Qeg-v1GN3YA/s1600-h/uniqlock.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234177625907905522" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDyvB5jjTMh5WsxRfrGrO5OdyIojD8T99xaQ_-O54ssdmKQg-nLWraLtqLLLvJDwd-VkAanJRN_0xoXgv-OdO4tGitnp7MF4FGjQv4EoBIUkCH62qDFlnDXV2wqg_Qeg-v1GN3YA/s320/uniqlock.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"><a href="http://www.uniqlo.jp/uniqlock/?id=0f3e22mciVyfLQHK"><span style="color:#33ff33;">M A R S E I L L E</span></a> <span style="color:#ff99ff;">/</span> <a href="http://www.uniqlo.jp/uniqlock/"><span style="color:#00cccc;">T O K Y O</span></a><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;">So beautiful. No words.<br />Watch.<br />Take time.<br />Enjoy.</span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"><a href="http://www.uniqlo.jp/uniqlock/?id=0f3e22mciVyfLQHK"><br /><br /></a></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"><a href="http://www.uniqlo.jp/uniqlock/?id=0f3e22mciVyfLQHK"></a></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"></span><br /><a href="http://www.griffonagestudios.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#cc0000;"><em>griffonage studios</em></span></a><em><span style="color:#cc0000;"><br /></span></em><a href="http://griffonagestudios.blogspot.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#cc0000;"><em>griff's blog</em></span></a><em><span style="color:#cc0000;"><br /></span></em><a href="http://www.griffonagestudios.com/wordsmith.htm" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#cc0000;"><em>wordsmith at griffonage studios</em></span></a>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-91123519053157538532008-08-11T18:17:00.000-07:002008-08-11T19:26:15.621-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCP5tTs3_BedAf86DaJDdolEWgsDDYnlQo2HKRz5sgDokx4-YvSgVHMjNstAAu_m_dvTAfz9KlQPqcGS9X3EvoCBTyuvj4IssZ7G-lH4sknEJNJsFLEYZ1pUfKCn7gnuYH73PhFw/s1600-h/leapin-larry.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233434617985740946" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCP5tTs3_BedAf86DaJDdolEWgsDDYnlQo2HKRz5sgDokx4-YvSgVHMjNstAAu_m_dvTAfz9KlQPqcGS9X3EvoCBTyuvj4IssZ7G-lH4sknEJNJsFLEYZ1pUfKCn7gnuYH73PhFw/s320/leapin-larry.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#663366;"><span style="color:#6600cc;">Many Incarnations (of Our Pets)...<br /></span><br /></span></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#663366;"></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">So I must tell you that this story isn’t as pitiful as the one which a student of mine told at a fully seated dinner table (much to my mortification) in Tuscany one evening. Her story involved a pet that her husband had “adopted” while doing a stint in the county jail and sadly, the pet was, if I remember correctly, a piece of lint.<br /><br />We have recently lost two beloved house pets (both were remarkable cats) and are therefore a bit sensitive, perhaps even reticent about taking on another at the moment. After all, we have our giant dog of 12 years, who was “dropped off” near our home on a remote country road in California in the dead of winter, one snowy and freezing cold season long ago. She is absolutely the best dog ever and we love her dearly; a sentiment which she regularly returns to us unequivocally, unconditionally and always in great intensity. Somehow our dog seems to be a perfect, fabulous, full time shadow for both my husband as well as for me, thereby fulfilling our every furry and lovable requirements quite nicely.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;">Nevertheless</span> we enjoy pets; all kinds of them। Something about the added personalities among the dynamics of our household, I suppose. And this past spring in Arizona, we noticed a new presence in our backyard. Every morning, there was a bit of a parade occurring on the top of the wall that surrounds our yard. Looking very much like a russet potato, the star participant was a fairly large, very round, brownish lizard with the requisite skinny lizard legs, stubby yet pointed tail and tiny lizard head. Always on display and forever doing the lizard push ups, we began to watch our new buddy “Tatey” as it hunted for bugs and showed off it’s grand, if rather rotund reptilian physique. </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><br />As the spring moved along, a tiny little lizard began to join Tatey’s morning displays atop the walls, running in between Tatey’s legs and mimicking Tatey’s proud, grand push ups in the warm desert morning sun. My husband began to collect the bugs which he skimmed off the top of the pool each morning and make a small pile of them in bed of mint in our backyard. The bugs would dry, get crispy as the daylight grew brighter and then disappear before the next morning’s deposit was made.<br /><br />Tatey grew ever larger and began dividing his time between the thick, cool safety of the aloe bushes next to the pool and the more shaded, private space behind our water softener. Little lizzie spent most of his time in the mint bushes and then on the wrought iron cross legs of the outdoor table on our back porch, as well. Somewhere along the line, we began to call the fascinating and industrious mini lizard “Larry” and he now occupies a great deal of our attention everyday and every night. He seems to feel at ease with us and vice versa.<br /><br />We have enjoyed observing the interplay between what appears to be parent lizard and offspring, as well as learning so much about the habits of these mesmerizing reptiles. It seems that we have become rather attached to both Tatey and Larry. Perhaps they have become our newest pets?</span><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSrc-ncdWLZskTaSIXLSSWqP9VfA5oc85jtk3rClprAy6Mb-lQUARR2cejDd4t_5BP5k7zn8-YqFS_7cIPuuzfnNanUaPv3912LdfoxJOB7QxF9rA6NHBYw3Fa-yfR_KbEdQQzRA/s1600-h/larrylizzard.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233434922692385650" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSrc-ncdWLZskTaSIXLSSWqP9VfA5oc85jtk3rClprAy6Mb-lQUARR2cejDd4t_5BP5k7zn8-YqFS_7cIPuuzfnNanUaPv3912LdfoxJOB7QxF9rA6NHBYw3Fa-yfR_KbEdQQzRA/s320/larrylizzard.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6666cc;">For the last two evenings,</span> <span style="color:#666666;">while getting ready for bed, I have had the most amazing view of little Larry’s current resourcefulness; he pursues moths which gather on the outer side of the frosted glass which covers my bathroom windows. Once I light up the openings from my side, insects are immediately attracted to the exterior and it’s time for Larry’s nightly hunt-a-thon. He hides in wait, at the top of the window (in a shadow) and then snaps quickly at the fluttering creatures, eating them whole in an instant. It is quite a sight, seeing Larry from underneath and watching the pale lavender creature perform his nightly ritualistic chase. I feel privileged to be Larry’s hostess and so hope that he continues to live on our porch for a very long time... at least until he has eaten enough bugs to become Tatey-sized.</span></span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.griffonagestudios.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#9999ff;">griffonage studios</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><br /></span><a href="http://griffonagestudios.blogspot.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#9999ff;">griff's blog</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><br /></span><a href="http://www.griffonagestudios.com/wordsmith.htm" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#9999ff;">wordsmith at griffonage studios</span></a>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-63889115037578503072008-07-29T19:18:00.000-07:002008-07-29T20:09:04.749-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiYk5YHmEZwA0FRglQLs_tg52V6dbQVRhX6EERI_6rXlspavLOZ31aMgTSeJI5g2lM_OpVZNUqfZG2arUsNPH6ivpPS9JV30eF8mqAau5ORaDRft5Vkq3X01pbpkNPS1qHZ2ijuw/s1600-h/home.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228625982407341234" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiYk5YHmEZwA0FRglQLs_tg52V6dbQVRhX6EERI_6rXlspavLOZ31aMgTSeJI5g2lM_OpVZNUqfZG2arUsNPH6ivpPS9JV30eF8mqAau5ORaDRft5Vkq3X01pbpkNPS1qHZ2ijuw/s320/home.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;color:#336666;"><strong>There's a place where I can go and...</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;">Savoring the comfort of my own workspace when the day gets a little too gnarly, too edgy, too angry, too aggressive, and yes, a tad too unpredictable</span></span>.<br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">Just now…</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;color:#00cccc;"><em><a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/in-my-room-lyrics-beach-boys.html"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#339999;">There’s a place where I can go<br />And tell my secrets to<br />In my room, in my room<br />(In my room)<br /><br />In this world I lock out all<br />my worries and my fears<br />In my room, in my room<br />(In my room)<br /><br />Do my dreaming and my scheming<br />Lie awake and pray<br />Do my crying and my sighing<br />Laugh at yesterday<br /><br />Now it’s dark and I’m alone<br />But I won’t be afraid<br />In my room, in my room<br />(In my room) </span></a></em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#00cccc;"><span style="color:#666666;">Ah, my studio, my messy, (rat packed as artists will do?), over filled, under organized, far too little space on this earth; let’s just call it a secret little haven, shall we? </span></span><br /><span style="color:#666666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#666666;">Sitting here now, tapping on the keyboard of my trusty old Toshiba, enjoying the cool evening air with the tacky white ceiling fan whirling overhead, watching the sun setting brightly and blissfully, slightly to the left of the Santa Catalina mountains… all of this permits me to breathe deeply without even being aware of my action; for now it is good simply to be here this evening। And the possibilities! </span></span></span><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">I may go wild and listen to some jazz in a minute or perhaps even plurk somebody. Nevertheless for the moment, for this minute…. I am at a transitory peace, no matter what else is happening.</span><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;">Wondering now, exactly where is this place we like to call home? Always moving, hopefully I will know sooner than later… continuing to keep my eyes peeled for the next big highway sign.</span><br /></span></span><span style="color:#666666;"><br /></span><span style="color:#666666;"><br /></span><a href="http://www.griffonagestudios.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#339999;">griffonage studios</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span><a href="http://griffonagestudios.blogspot.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#339999;">griff's blog</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span><a href="http://www.griffonagestudios.com/wordsmith.htm" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#339999;">wordsmith at griffonage studios</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><br /></span></p></span>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-45952153927609649362008-07-13T14:19:00.000-07:002008-07-13T15:18:00.905-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDIcDmCzzFfizgTylQ9oihy-fDtdNEDVfgN9M0nyJVtYBBowu6CVeBFZntRxC_pq0NiQocAAQ6r91UMxHSTc7nQe6hwVLJil_Py_Nwwqq4hginWMzsxbF3M9AFM_cXyEQjXziWw/s1600-h/heap.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222622371120151442" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDIcDmCzzFfizgTylQ9oihy-fDtdNEDVfgN9M0nyJVtYBBowu6CVeBFZntRxC_pq0NiQocAAQ6r91UMxHSTc7nQe6hwVLJil_Py_Nwwqq4hginWMzsxbF3M9AFM_cXyEQjXziWw/s320/heap.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color:#663366;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;">Insignificantly Yours</span> </span></span><br /><span style="color:#663366;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;">As a pack rat</span>, apparently a defining quality of many artists, I have to say that I love computers. </span></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Computers</span> provide us with a place to store all of our valuable personal crap; piles and piles of notes and endless (but extremely important?) photographs and memorable (or so we thought at the time; how many sunsets CAN you watch in the desert?) videos and favorite songs. And the storage space is so beautifully compact and so easily organized, even for an impulsively noisy and inconcise mind such as the whirlwind that clamors regularly in my own head. I can keep things, all things; I can find them and best of all I can get back to them and use them when needed.</span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;">Now even when</span> I find myself in many different locations, traveling and telling stories, I am able to pull up an image and share it. Or put together a story around a memory that has been preserved in an image, even if I can’t get back to my boxes of crap at home.</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZEUKPns2ocnthA_SfvTMluWTQT82ZdLJFFm1Irozs8Aw30i-VPpZlilTqR2R0txipeuWlNt_7jiqu9HBjwTTV_k1hHJwzBYcdfJl_OXuz0VjRgjyn3D0PG44VbsYBsoHjnu21-Q/s1600-h/pix.jpg"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222622218642362882" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZEUKPns2ocnthA_SfvTMluWTQT82ZdLJFFm1Irozs8Aw30i-VPpZlilTqR2R0txipeuWlNt_7jiqu9HBjwTTV_k1hHJwzBYcdfJl_OXuz0VjRgjyn3D0PG44VbsYBsoHjnu21-Q/s320/pix.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"> </span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;">It has been years</span> since I have looked at so much of the stuff that I carry from one place to the other as I move around the world and through my adulthood. Much has been packed away in boxes which have been organized pretty much within the same system that I use to think about things in general; an artist’s chaos of mental organization.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">People that I had forgotten</span> that I knew and loved or hated --- people I wanted to forget, lost love letters that are better filed in the trash have followed me quietly for 30 some years. Today I have finally made my way through the last of those storage boxes; reviewing the illusions, hopes, dreams and angst of my teenage years, the loss of good friends, the memories of wonderful adventures and stacks of financial records which track both my stupid and my genius moves throughout that venue of my life.</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoPjUgUscypBav6etCXpflSh1D4hTdGKL-4lZi7Uvzy8aBRBekO9g7yMNhmkwLutCXwTWEL_znu8HqdyZAMuPJKF_SWLqjqRZG3mXMcWq6DVMfFPD3UrsrypeLl7X5QOe9Nv5-4Q/s1600-h/stack.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222621996760749810" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoPjUgUscypBav6etCXpflSh1D4hTdGKL-4lZi7Uvzy8aBRBekO9g7yMNhmkwLutCXwTWEL_znu8HqdyZAMuPJKF_SWLqjqRZG3mXMcWq6DVMfFPD3UrsrypeLl7X5QOe9Nv5-4Q/s320/stack.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:130%;">And the clumps of photographs</span>: did I ever really look that young? Who ARE those people whose high school pictures I collected so carefully? (Must have neglected to write down names, thinking it would be impossible to forget faces which have long lost meaning). All those letters from a best friend who “forgot” to invite me to her wedding, although we had made a pact to be one another’s brides’ maids, all through our high school years. (To be fair, I myself eloped when the time came to marry and so didn’t have any brides’ maids at all).<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">It feels good</span> to have cleansed my files, my life, my ever more selective memories... to a certain degree. Admittedly, we still have way too many boxes filled with things that we probably don’t need stashed away in our home, but the boxes contain our insignificant little personal histories and so it is hard to part with them, just yet. And hopefully, we will be able to build a bigger house once the economy rebounds; a place with lots more storage space.<br /></span><br /><a href="http://www.griffonagestudios.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#6666cc;">griffonage studios</span></a><br /><a href="http://griffonagestudios.blogspot.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#6666cc;">griff's blog</span></a><br /><a href="http://www.griffonagestudios.com/wordsmith.htm" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#6666cc;">wordsmith at griffonage studios</span></a>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-48403985474460117332008-07-05T12:56:00.000-07:002008-07-05T13:27:04.600-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSExt-5-gysYch-RuyGDfrDQVdnCFKKg_qQR_gpTGeKu5n63yRIH5Yqg-uhfyejXOKtEuzoOtm9_TEnU2FUCDJymxg3dKtN71yFZs4xaepp18Lm7xwPkcSBrZ8v-_KyIuB49Xq7w/s1600-h/upward.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219622849030011298" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSExt-5-gysYch-RuyGDfrDQVdnCFKKg_qQR_gpTGeKu5n63yRIH5Yqg-uhfyejXOKtEuzoOtm9_TEnU2FUCDJymxg3dKtN71yFZs4xaepp18Lm7xwPkcSBrZ8v-_KyIuB49Xq7w/s320/upward.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#333399;">oh stenocereus thurberi!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;">What comes of having a very good <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monsoon"><span style="color:#999900;">monsoon season</span></a> in the <a href="http://geography.asu.edu/aztc/monsoon.html"><span style="color:#999900;">Sonoran Desert</span></a> and a loving gardener (aka the husband?). Here are some photos from our backyard, for your examination.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666666;"></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOKX3pWbCBpT2pL4qlCZ1OSppvnueegjXtyNIHes55Ze-yPqA6Nb7vlLedNO5qFiSFs4BZ6Z3mVJRSAugpg5GhvCI53qDYoA6aleLlJboAlAuSF2xdQZY5RjhhQVWvJqiBouHBwg/s1600-h/edgy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219624103232130994" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOKX3pWbCBpT2pL4qlCZ1OSppvnueegjXtyNIHes55Ze-yPqA6Nb7vlLedNO5qFiSFs4BZ6Z3mVJRSAugpg5GhvCI53qDYoA6aleLlJboAlAuSF2xdQZY5RjhhQVWvJqiBouHBwg/s320/edgy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#666666;">The <a href="http://www.desertusa.com/aug96/du_organpipe.html"><span style="color:#999900;">organ pipe cacti</span></a>, particularly those which have become more pampered and domesticated, seem quite sensitive to extreme cold. Their deep green skins are seemingly softer, more tender and less leathery than perhaps, say, the saguaro.</span><br /></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb1kmB3ysf2yrZfLvSWODIwCuecBtX0yKsVMZHM49bTy9j-BRyMOqHjpgkIXTnbGqzcdW_GZVTKy3HqxhHzuHyZ09NQh-t9RScdr0DeJlNLJLpzeAZe9vtvOAlhdmurzy1TvihyphenhyphenQ/s1600-h/organnie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219622463668224290" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb1kmB3ysf2yrZfLvSWODIwCuecBtX0yKsVMZHM49bTy9j-BRyMOqHjpgkIXTnbGqzcdW_GZVTKy3HqxhHzuHyZ09NQh-t9RScdr0DeJlNLJLpzeAZe9vtvOAlhdmurzy1TvihyphenhyphenQ/s320/organnie.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color:#666666;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">The susceptible top tips of each “pipe” need to be covered with paper coffee cups in the winter chills (yes, it really does sometimes get down as low as 32 degrees in certain desert winter months), in order to see the gorgeous proliferation of flora once the warmer (100 degrees plus) temperatures arrive in mid summer.</span><br /></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunhsXg8K-iBIayAGQDt2d2eSgwlnuYDzysxMfXkxl7IjCi0_4Jy8-gHp5eSi6WTt_jcxvG93Z6aOvM14DkdPVpHLWGa7QgzMh2Um1ocGC1VvLqTI_fSQMtc7IT1GWnn_3lAn0Rg/s1600-h/burster.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219621926588742402" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunhsXg8K-iBIayAGQDt2d2eSgwlnuYDzysxMfXkxl7IjCi0_4Jy8-gHp5eSi6WTt_jcxvG93Z6aOvM14DkdPVpHLWGa7QgzMh2Um1ocGC1VvLqTI_fSQMtc7IT1GWnn_3lAn0Rg/s320/burster.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color:#666666;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;">Much like a huge satellite dish, the blossom sits atop each pipe, proportionally much larger than the body of <a href="http://www.nps.gov/PWR/customcf/apps/maps/showmap.cfm?alphacode=orpi&parkname=Organ%20Pipe%20Cactus%20National%20Monument"><span style="color:#999900;">this fascinating succulent</span></a>. The floras appear waxy as buds and then expand into a massive white bloom whose petal texture explains the richness associated with silk flowers.</span><br /></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWgvof8-0hG9x_LVhZJ8zIqdwuxiig-nJIQ6sksO_PiM1AQKUIP3TzlZXTaKADueIvQsBJNz3esRle_5xP5ABhjmXO6J4yug-WpUZB5rPFZ7ZM-_oVrx6Xa_rdBjD8d6Hnt3pcQ/s1600-h/pistilina.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219621660042942114" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlWgvof8-0hG9x_LVhZJ8zIqdwuxiig-nJIQ6sksO_PiM1AQKUIP3TzlZXTaKADueIvQsBJNz3esRle_5xP5ABhjmXO6J4yug-WpUZB5rPFZ7ZM-_oVrx6Xa_rdBjD8d6Hnt3pcQ/s320/pistilina.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;">The blooms of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stenocereus_thurberi"><span style="color:#999900;">organ pipe cacti</span></a> are particularly responsive to sunlight and temperature, proclaiming the opulence of life with each new morning in which they are privileged to exist.</span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><p></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;"></p><br /><br /></span><a href="http://www.griffonagestudios.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#9999ff;">griffonage studios</span></a><br /><a href="http://griffonagestudios.blogspot.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#9999ff;">griff's blog</span></a><br /><a href="http://www.griffonagestudios.com/wordsmith.htm" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#9999ff;">wordsmith at griffonage studios</span></a><br /></span>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11715355.post-8169131162355016582008-06-29T17:56:00.000-07:002008-06-29T18:06:21.696-07:00<span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#666600;"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#666666;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#333333;"><span style="font-family:georgia;">A</span><span style="font-size:85%;">fter</span></span> <span style="font-size:85%;color:#333300;">a short stay in America</span></span><span style="color:#333300;">, Michelangelo's <strong><em><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_(Michelangelo)"><span style="color:#666600;">David</span></a></em></strong> returns to Europe...</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;font-size:85%;color:#333300;"></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikutfzq0z2kyLycSE-L8HhwaUBz4J5t_eoY-mE2PYOu_Vb_Rtc81iAY3w3YgGQUw3bL05c-IZyikDJb3U5gETc0W_vCxmTenElEWs1ExGW3u714yrnFfnQrIprf7gntVvf3DIXXg/s1600-h/McDavid2008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217472419817070610" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikutfzq0z2kyLycSE-L8HhwaUBz4J5t_eoY-mE2PYOu_Vb_Rtc81iAY3w3YgGQUw3bL05c-IZyikDJb3U5gETc0W_vCxmTenElEWs1ExGW3u714yrnFfnQrIprf7gntVvf3DIXXg/s320/McDavid2008.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.griffonagestudios.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#666666;">griffonage studios</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#666666;"> </span><a href="http://griffonagestudios.blogspot.com/" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#666666;">griff's blog</span></a><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#666666;"> </span><a href="http://www.griffonagestudios.com/wordsmith.htm" target="_blank" rel="nofollow"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:78%;color:#666666;">wordsmith at griffonage studios</span></a>griffhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07361405540132094302noreply@blogger.com1