Thursday, March 31, 2011

More Found Art

Sketches and epigrams 
found in a discarded book.

Cyr's Fifth Reader
She is not the only girl.

Proclamation.
Flopfooted.
Skates Like A Turkey

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Piedmont Avenue Blog One Year Old!

Piedmont  and 41st Street
Oakland, California
November, 1978


To Whom It May Concern;


I'm still
strolling Piedmont Avenue,
alert to sights and sounds.
Bewildered by calamity -
Astonished by beauty -
Noting with care,
things gone and things
still here.

Thanks for stopping by.
Dorian
Piedmont and 41st
March, 2011
(Courtesy of Mark P.)

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Sheep May Safely Graze



To Whom It May Concern:



"Contented Sheep"
"Removing the rods increases..."
"Silhouetted against the clouds..."

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Clown Painting




"Stillborn Life With Clown"
(Thanks to Mark P. for the title)

"His hair is green, his nose is red,
and he wears crazy britches,
His toy balloons and macaroons 
keep everyone in stitches."

"Squeegee The Happy Clown"
A song from my irony- free childhood.


"Kitschy The Creepy Clown"


Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Found Art

This collage was found glued inside the book "Choice Readings", edited by Robert McLean Cumnock.
A.C. McClurg and CO. 1925

"Be An Artist".

EFFUSIVE OROTUND


"This kind of Orotund is used in the rendition of all grand, sublime, and reverential styles. It is the appropriate voice of prayer, of all the prayer services of the church, of nearly all hymns -- since they are but prayers in verse -- of the grand passages of the Prophets and Psalms, as well as the sublime utterances of the Revelation. It is also the appropriate voice for the expression of all emotions that are excited by the grandeur, vastness, or splendor of natural  objects. The prevailing pitch of the voice is low, and in profound awe, despair and horror, we descend to the lowest pitch." page 291.


Saturday, March 5, 2011

Homeless





This camper has been on the periphery of my consciousness for a few years. During the course of my work day I visit the same lot where it has often been parked over the past couple of years. Many homeless people congregate in this area.
 Recently it was tagged for removal; having remained in the same spot for two weeks. By chance, I arrived at the same time the police and tow crew were preparing to remove it.
An officer opened the side door and ventured inside ... "They know who this belongs to." he told me, "They believe he's passed on." However,  no body was found inside, just trash.



Who was this person? What sort of life did he live? What circumstances led to him to spending his final years in a filthy R.V. ?



"Recreational vehicles" begin as status emblems and can transfigure into rolling hovels of desperation; windows clotted with filthy junk.  They become shelter for those hanging by a thread; living on the streets -- if not literally in the street. The "mobile home" is also a fantasy of freedom.  Americans are obsessed with the word freedom. Maybe this individual enjoyed more "freedom" than most. Maybe he still does.


If in fact this person is still alive, he nonetheless inhabits the zone of the "living dead", invisible in plain sight.

These images are ordinary. This could be any town or city in the United States.


If in fact this person is dead. Did I ever encounter him?  I wonder if we exchanged glances or perhaps a few words? I don't remember. Does this person have any living relatives? Will these photos be the sole testimonial to a fellow human being's existence?