Local TV news

 No. I won’t let go of this.

The major college sports locally bring in a great deal of revenue. These teams are sometimes only mediocre. The major local professional teams are billion dollar businesses, and they are sometimes mediocre. Yet local TV coverage of these teams amounts to a great deal of free advertising.
The fine arts institutions in Cincinnati are rarely less than excellent and bring international attention to the city. They are non-profit and must constantly fundraise. Yet, they are almost never given TV coverage.
What’s wrong with this picture?

Apocalypse

 Not so long ago we thought the Apocalypse was God’s wrath punishing us for our brutality, avarice and abuse of power. But now we see God wasn’t needed at all. We’ve done it by ourselves to one another—fire, floods, earthquakes, cyclones, hurricanes and plagues.

Personal art history

My personal art history:
Art is scribbles.
Art is Mother’s Day cards.
Art is drawing on the walls.
Art is lettering and perspective.
Art is craft.
Art is put on the back burner for mathematics.
Art is design work for friends.
Art is printmaking.
Art is drawing.
Art is drawing on the walls.
Art is serious business.
Art is teaching art.
Art is curating art.
Art is collage, mixed media, photography, sculpture, intervention, performance and public art.
Art is working with kids and disabled folks.

Art is writing about art. 

Haikus

Thoughts in Haikus

Thousands for Taylor
And what about their student debt
Priorities count

Politicians yap
Promises to dupe voters
Why not educate

Trump boxes them in
With fear, lies and victimhood
Stubborn, hapless sheep

Limit who can love?
We need every bit of love

To keep us human 

Rafe

 As a youngster, Ralph (“Rafe”) picked up tunes from the streets

And played them on his penny whistle
Often he would skip school
To sit on a rock by the sea and listen for new tunes
Whistled and sung by the fishermen
As a young man he frequented pubs and churches
Listening and replaying the melodies he heard
Occasionally, a bit drunk, he would dance
On the pub tables playing his flute
When he matured as a composer Vaughn-Williams
Deftly wove these tunes into his compositions
Of course Greensleeves was one

Copland

 All little Aaron wanted was a pony

But, of course, that was impossible
In his family’s small Brooklyn apartment
So for birthdays, he settled for
Chaps, a cowboy hat, boots and spurs
He grew out of the chaps
And the spurs shredded the sheets
While he slept
Mr. Copland never grew out of
His fascination with the West
And he embedded it in “Rodeo” and “Billy the Kid”
An East Coast cowboy all the way

Bitch

 Yesterday at Kroger I saw a man with a T-shirt that said:

BITCH I’M A BENGAL.
I thought to myself, what the hell, why don’t I get a T-shirt that says:
BITCH I’M AN ARTIST.