Doodle Tuesday: Then We Can Drain It
What Violins Sing in Their Bed of Lard by Hans Arp the elephant is in love with the millimeter the snail dreams of the moon’s defeat his shoes are pale and purged like the gelatine rifle of a neo-soldier the eagle owns the motions of a mind’s-eye void his piss is speckled with gleams… Continue reading The Monday Poem: What Violins Sing in Their Bed of Lard
Just finished this new piece! I use chance methods to create all of my drawings and poems. Will be available through my eBay page soon.
This week's painting is Meret Oppenheim's Red Head, Blue Body.