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Ghostly feet, a Secret Angel Man and other oddities from Ireland...

finally, pics from trip to Ireland last year... enjoy!

view from the plane, streaked with rain
first sight of green

lovely pub details...

threshold of the Hi-B pub
they say you're nobody till you're kicked out the Hi-B.
which we were ;)

blarney castle.
yep, i'm a sucker for castles.

check the ghostly feet on the right -
i do not recall anyone being there  {{creepy}}

secret angel man watching from his perch in an alley 

gentleman begging for change under statue of james joyce

just bizarre. i call it
"Mother Mary Full of Change"

i felt great comfort in finding lifesavers
placed randomly throughout the city streets.
{is this for after the pub-crawl?!
or a figurative gesture, as in - here you go mate,
life may try to drown you, but help is always at hand?!}

in the taxi



Back By Popular Demand...

More of my book, Gods, An Epidemic: An Epic Comedy Drama with Apocalyptic Tendencies {working title} and a new illustration for the same:

details of drawing:

Chapter 1
The Magician

Eve woke up with that indecipherable feeling of being simultaneously hungry and nauseous. “I’ll never drink again.” She swore as she half-walked, half-hobbled to the bathroom. After having a most glorious bladder relieving session, she made her way to the kitchen, hunched over and slow, like a decrepit and abnormally tall turtle. Passing her passed-out friend on the living-room sofa, she made no attempt to shuffle quietly; misery doesn’t so much love company as beg for it in a rather demanding tone.

She noisily poured herself some ice water, which she drank down in one go, then talked herself out of curling up in the corner on the floor in favor of attempting to make some breakfast; in the hopes that she was more in the nourishment-lacking state of gastro-intestinal things than the puke-your-guts-up one. To which end, she turned on the stovetop burner, plunked a pan on it, wrestled with the bacon packaging before popping it in the now too-hot pan, but then realized (horror of horrors!) the coffee wasn’t brewing, so got distracted and annoyed by the unclean pot from yesterday, which she washed out and began to count the number of scoops of coffee when she realized she hadn’t put in the rest of the bacon and the ones already cooking were beginning to burn because she’d turned the burner on High, and by the time she’d dealt with the Battle of the Bacon, she’d forgotten how many scoops she’d already put in the coffee filter and had to dump it out and start over, only she missed the trash can and half of the grounds ended up on the floor at which point she turned off the stove and opted for the curling-up-in-the-corner-on-the-floor option, in the hopes that the breakfast fairy would come and save her.


{if you'd like a refresher, start with: The Preamble



Shark Infested Waters

A friend turned me on to a magnifico way to share tunes & playlists -- Grooveshark{!} -- it's free, and doesn't infringe anybody's copyrights, for those of us who care, like me, cause I'm an artist & stealing sucks.

Come hear what's in my ear with my playlist "...lately..." 
{you don't need an account to listen}

If you do sign up, come post your username here in the comments so I can 'follow' you and hear what rocks your world ;)



Visual Culture

Bacterialized “Petri Glasses”  -or-  A literal Culture of the Visual
an interpretation by tracy yarkoni

First let me begin with a confession: the rust on my ‘art speak’ is enough to make a tetanus-shot-happy-shootin nurse squeal with joy. Second, I hadn’t realized this lamentable fact until reading Mitchell’s article.

But I digress, before I've even begun. My apologies. I will give Mr. Mitchell the benefit of the doubt that he was not intentionally trying to alienate and torture me personally; but that he really wanted to share with the world his critique of this fascinating concept called “Visual Culture” -- a subject which he taught for almost ten years, at the time his article was written. Also, he promises to describe his method of “showing seeing”, but only at the conclusion. I am intrigued by the idea, and like many-a-news program that I never meant to watch, I determine to stay tuned through all sorts of horrors, be they bloody, boring, or bloody boring, to get to the good part.  ...continue...