It's all Jackson Pollock's fault. Yes indeed. Oh, I suppose I will have to explain that. So a few semesters ago, I took a class about American Art. Winslow Homer, Georgia O'Keefe, Mary Cassat, Edward Hopper...some other artists and of course Jackson Pollock. Pollock did a lot of abstract impressionist type works and his technique of pouring and dripping paint is considered to be the origins of the "action painting". His work may or may not be people's cup ...
This is the classic Cinderella tale, only from Prince Charming's perspective. I see my slender wife's strong, delicate figure slip silently into the moonlit pool, the sparkling multitude of reflected disruption offers a unique and personal fragment to every star in the sky and every tree in the forest. This reminds me of the theme of fairness and sharing so totally foreign to me, which now is the charter of our relationship. It is thus that I must now attempt to recount the tale ...
This is one segment from an active longer story. Chapter 5 -- Camping out It was late in August, and very warm and humid. There had been the budding of a plan in Anthony's mind which he had kept well trimmed back, much like the way that a bonsai tree's roots are trimmed to affect miniaturization. He now allowed this concept to sprout unmolested. It was a natural progression; the extension of a train of thought which was already gaining much momentum. ...
10 years ago and before that, I was a software engineer. To be more specific I was and embedded systems software engineer. That means I wrote the programs that live inside of electronic instruments, machinery and appliances. I wrote software that went inside of anything from the microwave oven to an MRI machine to a little cheese scale that weighed huge semi trucks full of cheese. I had a stroke. Went out on a disability claim for two years. I was lucky in that I regained most ...
Next chapter after Polemical Visions *********************** When she came to, she found herself staring at the ceiling with water streaming down her face, her pillow drenched from the tears she had shed over the union with Drew. Even her fantasies were laced with the pain of her heart, she considered, though she preferred the dream-suffering of love over the agony of emptiness that characterized her real existence. The sun had begun its descent, and the ray of light that ...
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