Colourful folks,
How tales are woven. A gentleman in Europe, Balthus called himself Count Balthazar Klossowski de Rola, saying that he came from an ancient Polish family whose male members had the rank of Count. But gossip persisted that he invented the title and Rola was merely an adaptation of the Lake Geneva village of Rolle where Balthus lived with his first wife.
So the world whorls around the solar system which is in the inevitable universal soup of space just somewhere. Where do you call that place which is where resides the mass of all places combined? What is the topic of this sentence?
So painting continues as a method of covering up that which we have put places on places behind. Why put them up if we are going to cover them up? The nature of natural is uncannily sublime. We stucco and paint, siding and plaster, forever dunging up the scene.
So there I sat searching and researching for the eminent masses transfixed to their LCD, CRT, NGB, VR6, TVO, RHM, MRN, BRT, or any other such visual stimuli delivering gadget and I slither across this site cruising on my magic carpet driven WebCrawler. Cootiehog dot com. I hither for and heretofore disclaim any decision regarding the pros or negativity of this unforgotten site.
So I was also musing about the general theory of relativity. Relative to something we can never attain and general in the sense that it covers the universe. Again the size is a small stumbling block. How can we relate something to another thing which we cannot define? It’s out there. We know it’s there. We can touch some of it. We can see some of it. But there are parts of it which we claim knowledge of its existence in as having seen its image of existence from light years ago! Is it there now? Probably not. Hence we still have no proof of it still being there. Just a theory that allows us to surmise that it might have once been there.
As if I could say, “Oh my neighbour was mowing his lawn yesterday” without actually anybody seeing him do it, and only a description of him doing it. Imagine if we could actually claim that the lawn was mowed. MOWING THE LAWN!!!! It’s September, nearly October and I am still mowing my lawn more than once a week! Talk about contributing to the green house effect. It’s a viscous circle. More mowing, more green house gases, more greener grass, more mowing. Just stop as it was last year: hot but not smoking, wet but not flooded.
So I sip my Soca Java slower these days to savour the sensations provided by the deep rich brew. Wafts of aroma winding steamily through the air to my nostrils, so thick you can feel the weight of the wisps. Ahhhh. I’d rather be drinking coffee than painting walls.
Coming soon
Vox dot com
Mark Hull
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