Mirror, Mirror, in the Cosmos,
Where is True Love we may osmose?
n.e.s. #71 of 480
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Tag Archives: Sequential art
n.e.s. #70 of 480
Nowadays, Friends, there seems to be a switcheroo in progress: Invention is the mother of Necessity. Invent a way to make lots of cars for cheap and a mere hundred years later the population explodes sevenfold, there are conflicts on a global scale, and some guy eats a bat and lays millions of people low. (That last is perhaps merely a rumor, but the disease is real.)
People in the arts MUST make things up as they go along, to slake the thirst for Newness. So here we are. Where are we going? We chase Tomorrow to find out.
n.e.s. #69 of 480
Once upon a time, 1935 or thereabouts, Ogden Nash wrote a ditty about Sigmund Freud, thus:
Who’s afreud of the big bad dream?
Things are never what they seem,
Daddy’s derbies, Mama’s thimbles,
Actually are shocking symbols.
Still, I think, a pig’s a pig–
Ah, there, symbol-minded Sig!
I miss Ogden Nash.
n.e.s. #68 of 480
Memorializing A Sacred Kerchief.
n.e.s. #67 of 480
Rinse hands. Soap up. Make your hands wrestle while singing twenty seconds’ worth of John Prine’s “When I Get To Heaven.” Rinse. Dry hands. Use what you dried your hands with to turn off the water.
n.e.s. #66 of 480
Longitude plus latitude minus lassitude equals attitude.
n.e.s. #65 of 480
Do we lose consciousness, or gain it?
n.e.s. #64 of 480
Friends, I am baffled as to where this installment came from. It does not reflect what is currently going on in my own life at all. No Ping-Pong, no whine, no difficult decision to make.
And while I was drawing it was as if I were being TOLD what to draw. Odd.
n.e.s. #63 of 480
It starts with Growing things, Friends.
n.e.s. #62 of 480
Other confinements aside, we are all doing a life sentence, with no possibility for parole, between our ears.
