Thursday, July 17, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Iconism is a term I came up with for a style of drawing I invented. Pen and Ink work is usually done in dots, slashes and crosshatching. I figured, why couldn't those marks on the paper be different? Why couldn't they reflect a meaning to go along with the subject of the drawing? My answer was, "They could!" So I came up with a series of marks that, in themselves, had meaning. In the series of drawings below, you will find the marks ">", "~","T","O", and others such as tiny fish and 6's. These are all spiritual drawings, because the technique lends itself to that subject. The first one is the first one I ever did with this technique and thus, ICONISM was born. Using icons for the marks in a pen and ink drawing.
The first one is entitled, "Forgive Them" and it was my conception of Jesus praying for the world. The rocks are made up of thorns, as the earth is a thorny place to live. His loin cloth is made of crosses. The sky is made of "tears" both watery and bloody. And His body is made of circles which denote "everlasting" and "everlasting love".
Monday, July 14, 2008
In a perfect world...
almost sounds like an oxymoron,
but perfect things would become unfurled,
and strife and fear we would not dwell on.
A perfect world
we would meet the right person,
and they would love us
In a perfect world
all loves would be right
and the absence of love
would be banned to the night.
For in daylight
is the only time
that love can show it's might,
without reason or rhyme.
In a perfect world
we all would fit
with the one we were created for
and love would be all
and that would be it.
In a perfect world...oh well
it's nice to dream , but not dwell
on what could/should be
'cause "perfect" is beyond you and me.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
"Vanity, vanity, all is vanity",
so said wise old Solomon.
And it's plain to me...
it affects all and is very common.
"Men don't make passes
at girls who wear glasses".
So announced the school yard bards.
Oh they certainly were cards.
And the kid that wore the hearing aid
was thought to be the dumbest of all
and for this he drearily paid
as they shouted to make him feel small.
For glasses were something that were all around,
but for him, because there was no sound
he stood out from all the rest,
and every day had to give it his best.
For the stigma attached to his affliction
made no sense, but was the addiction
of those whose understanding
was like their brains: undemanding.
And so he goes softly on his way
as others around pursue their play,
while he, in his own quiet space,
picks up his feet and joins the race.