briefly
last weekend I was reading philip roth's _Portnoy's Complaint_. it's a funny rant of a book, if a little one-dimensional. as I read it outside in the beautiful sun of our beautiful yard, a bird crapped on my foot:
then when I was in the house cleaning, I heard the faint buzzing of a fly. only it wasn't the frantic buzz of a fly on the loose. there was something more desperate about this buzz, a slightly higher and faster pitch. I peeled back the curtains and what did I find?
go spiders!
it was quite the weekend, what with all those events.
reading: cormac mccarthy, roth, heraclitus. listening: wilco, eyesores, wolf parade.
here is some recent work:
underglazes! (each work executed in earthenware with underglazes and clear glaze. electric fired to cone 04. taller pot 11 in. shorter pot 9.5 inches)
ta!
then when I was in the house cleaning, I heard the faint buzzing of a fly. only it wasn't the frantic buzz of a fly on the loose. there was something more desperate about this buzz, a slightly higher and faster pitch. I peeled back the curtains and what did I find?
go spiders!
it was quite the weekend, what with all those events.
reading: cormac mccarthy, roth, heraclitus. listening: wilco, eyesores, wolf parade.
here is some recent work:
underglazes! (each work executed in earthenware with underglazes and clear glaze. electric fired to cone 04. taller pot 11 in. shorter pot 9.5 inches)
ta!
posted by j0eb0t-xj9 at 5:49 PM
1 Comments:
Ah yes, Portnoy's Complaint... a classic, if for no other reason than the poignant depictions of grade school mastubation, ah how I remember thee! The first half of that book made me laugh aloud, again and again. To a point of discomfort.
-clandestine jew
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