Standing on the Stone

In the 60’s the art scene exploded with a colorful splash—inventive, pushing at the boundaries and confines of went before. But isn’t this true of every movement that’s intent on discovering a new way of looking at the world?

I went to an art exhibit confined to the art of the 60’s—groundbreaking at the time.

What’s new is a stone to step on—

We adjust and learn to interpret what the artist has done.

Today I read an essay that’s a patchwork, a potpourri—a potluck of genres. The lyric poem combines poetry and prose. The lyric essay clamors for our attention by making leaps from one thing to the next—one idea triggers another and the writer is off in that direction, but always paying attention to the lyricism of the words. Someone referred to the lyric essay as the braided essay—each strand separate, but entwined together to make a new braid.

I look for the abstraction in the reality of the landscape. The melding of shapes and colors to create another definition—another dimension—another view.

I found this weathered abstraction behind a train depot and titled it Waiting for the 7:46

In time continual peeling may reveal another dimension, another interpretation.

For now I touch the anonymity that often accompanies waiting.