A New Kind of Art for me at least. This is a HD photo in case you want to print. It seems to me to be a combination of impressionism and surrealism. The reflection is the real and the real is the reflection.
To see the real image, view upside down but be careful.
david michael jackson June 2, 2012 editors@artvilla.com
The names are in order. Crosley is in the rear. Crosley is a wiggle worm in the form of a dog. He cannot be still for long enough to get this photo. This photo is impossible, therefore it’s art. Since we are the Magazine of Modern Art then we should have a say. There we said it, it’s art!
This ezine has always been a sucker for cats and dogs.
To Ernest Sylvia and Vincent
You make me write this poem,
you with art in your hands.
Was it because no one cared Vincent?
Was it because they cared Ernest?
Was it your stated goal Sylvia?
Was it the pain of life,
or the meaningless shuffle to chaos,
the eons that can overcome your work?
Ah it was that fish
that fish that turned to bones.
Your greatest
is no greater than the single flower
blooming and fading.
I must kick your bones.
My worth is tiny beside your greatness
as your greatness is tiny beside the eons.
I must kick your bones.
Life will kill you soon enough.
When I see the momentary flower
I am carried by it
to bliss.
When I see your flower
I cry.
david michael jackson June 1, 2012 editors@artvilla.com
