One day...in the meantime: One week till London, assuming Bibi doesn't kill us all.

https://www.theartshesees.com/blog/medusa-with-the-head-of-perseus-the-7-foot-bronze-sculpture-comes-to-lower-manhattan?fbclid=IwAR14TZwffnQwztvomiJz94gnitCbdBdYChPvH2LwfrE61uZMlEVhp9b8d5M 

Goodbye Ray :-(

"In loving memory of Ray who peacefully passed away early this morning, a soul whose passion for art and beauty enriched our lives beyond measure.

Ray was a man whose love for art and beauty knew no bounds. Ray had a heart as expansive as the canvases he painted, and a spirit as free as the lines he drew.

From a very young age, Ray demonstrated an extraordinary talent for painting and drawing. But his artistry was more than just about technique; it was a lens through which he viewed the world. Like a poet with a pen, Ray used his brush to capture not just images, but the emotions and essence of what he saw.

Ray was a dreamer. And as many of us know, dreamers have a special kind of bravery. They dare to see the world not just for what it is but for what it could be, finding beauty in the most unlikely places. Whether it was a complex landscape or the intricate details of a leaf, Ray's keen eye never failed him.

His love for beauty extended beyond his art. Ray had an extraordinary affinity for all living creatures, big and small. He was the kind of man who would go out of his way not to step on ants, embodying a gentleness and compassion that is so rare in this world.

Yet, for all his talents and outward expressions, Ray was a private individual. Perhaps it was this intrinsic quality that allowed him to delve so deeply into his artistic pursuits, to seek out the depths of beauty that most of us could only dream of seeing.

Let us remember Ray not just for his artistic talents, but for his courage, his compassion, and his indefatigable pursuit of beauty. His art will remain a lasting legacy, reminding us all to seek out the beauty in the world, just as he did every single day."

Job not job? The waiting.

 

Copyright MB

The last of the Beckhams.

 

Praise God in the morning

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/praising-god-difficult-times-billy-taylor/

 

House crunch, in the electric V. No leads, and only 400 quid left.

 His hands

She was at the sea again, the indiffereing waves, against the edge, sweeping with an ever press of wandering worry; even as the shore was closed. She was in the base stumps, old hurts with the dead lines that void around existence. For some months now, she had sat solid lapsing into low begotten spaces, stopped solid as a stone; as still as a statue, thwarted at all ends, as palms turned upwards, ever reaching for an absent light. Into this ever narrowing ravine, the hurts of the hunted had gathered.; retracing the land gaps through which she had fallen. There he had sat, a little too detained behind the lines; loose and dark, an upright shadow with hollowing eyes. Like a wraith he had seeped, and suckered, till she had lost something. What it was , she couldn't exactly say; other than some how in the process, the very real mechanics of her life had altered . She didnt know how she had got there, or even if the removal had happened the same day, but some how, he had drawn her tight, till all quiver of her life had gone away. Craven and misaligning, Such was his healing. A mortician in the cemetery had passed her way. MB

She's not easy but she's worth it... ( youve got to see and accept my "tough to deal with")

She's tough to deal with.. but something about her makes me want more..