Nice sunny evening spent indoors and outdoors with the backdrop of numerous Roy Lichtenstein pieces. He was a busy man until he stopped. An artist who confuses and infuriates and for some is stuck in the gaudy time warp of comic strip pop memorabilia. That's not really how it is, the sixties didn't actually happen and nobody really captured anything of it all anyway, especially unreal things like sounds and images. They are all free as birds except for the fact that they are constrained by frames, plinths, rooms, human minds and recording mediums. You can own reality (in small slices in small towns ) but you can't own art. I also heard the word "factory" used in conversation. Think about it.
Today a crow parked himself in my office, via the fire exit, I fed him a half eaten apple (who ate the other half?) and he nodded to me, many times. He then stretched out his wings and bowed low. I last saw him, padding around on the grass, apple core in his beak. "As proud as a crow with an apple core" which never was a popular saying around these parts or any other parts that I can think of. Will he return for more core tomorrow?
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