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Post by Don Schaeffer on Mar 23, 2010 19:49:20 GMT -5
When the light is masked in the Spring I think of Europe, the home of fairy tales. Somewhere in Europe, the door to the border of the unbelievable is open. I would be able to see shadows inside. I am nearly content with crocus, emerging from the mat of dead red leaves. The model in my brain is bigger than I've ever seen.
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Post by inchiki on Mar 24, 2010 6:00:42 GMT -5
nice one don. what a cool mushroomy bird bath this is too. i like the that this poem makes suggestions but doesn't go all the way there. i'm left a bit confused by the last two lines, i just don't get the what the model is that's all.
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Post by Don Schaeffer on Mar 24, 2010 7:28:45 GMT -5
Dear I. You have to get to know me better to understand. That's where I live. In the model.
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Post by inchiki on Mar 25, 2010 9:17:45 GMT -5
ah.. and that's a nice picture too. i like the model concept. my wife did theatre design for a while and is very good at making little models. i always want to crawl inside.
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Post by Don Schaeffer on Mar 27, 2010 7:27:06 GMT -5
so do it. lol
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Post by Bernard Alain on Apr 2, 2010 21:02:51 GMT -5
this is very nice Don, your artwork and poetry always work fantastically together, for me I think it's the consistency in the texture bounce the reader back and forth from the images to the text.
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Post by Bernard Alain on Apr 2, 2010 21:04:35 GMT -5
I'm gonna bump this one, not because you bumped mine though--- up she goes
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Post by Don Schaeffer on Apr 3, 2010 15:01:54 GMT -5
Woops! Thanks Bernie.
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Post by leecrowell on Apr 6, 2010 1:29:12 GMT -5
I've also got this mental block that won't allow the idea of fairytales emanating from our hemisphere. What's up with that?
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Post by Don Schaeffer on Apr 6, 2010 13:21:12 GMT -5
The light is different in Europe and the forests are older.
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