"I want to go there...."
Erin and Lee, wee,
sang this song
one day
in chawtch
(Thanks to Dr. Helt for this photo)
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Birds, cont'd
A flamingo now nests on the ledge by our
In the 1980s the flamingo surveyed the back-yard in its original form on the upper deck at 517 Arcadian. It was before 1986 when the bughouse was built. See below.
Alas, as fate would have it, the yardbird eventually had its neck shatteringly broken. Not willing to part with this faded pink artifact, presented to us already old in the 70s by Tom Light of
In mixed media now, it finds rest in 2011 at the renewed Odd Fellows hall. The 'flung' flamingo roosts on a fleece-covered cottage cheese container. Flightless, it sports nevertheless a pair of leathern wings.
(FLung, FLamingo, FLeece, FLightless)
More on birds
A flamingo now
nests on the ledge by our desk under the skylight where yesterday's crow strode tentatively.
In the 1980s the flamingo reposed in its original form on the upper deck rail at 517, back in the pre-bughouse (1986) days. See below.
Alas, it eventually had its neck broken. Not wanting to part with this artifact presented to us in the 70s by friend Tom Light of Sequim WA, we took that flamingo head and wedded it to two interlocking gourds grown at the Arcadian Ave address.
In mixed media now, it rests at the Odd Fellows hall in its semi-plasticity roosting on a fleece-covered cottage cheese container. Symbolically flightless, it sports a pair of flappable leather wings.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Sneaky downtown denizens
A YEAR OF LIVING DANGEROUSLY:
HOW DO YOU BRAVE THE WILDS OF DOWNTOWN?
SOME PEOPLE HAVE ASKED.
SHADOWY FIGURES SURROUND US
ABOVE AND BELOW, YES.
Just this very morning, at 8:30
noisy crows scratched on our skylight
but were unable to gain purchase
on the dome-ed plexiglass.
Safe, for a time.
Beneath us, raccoons
expand their burrows in the sewers
leading out from their lodge hall
in the darkness under
the old post office.
On the streets, other zanes obtain.
But we fear naught
for we live appropriately enough
in a former Odd Fellows hall.
In ghostly numbers, safety.
Class warfare? Recall!
Images come to mind
When hearing of the
Rapacious
Voicing travail
Over the far less
Enfranchised
Sensing unfairness
And daring to speak up
About it.
The little scrill
Blatantly
Swimming upstream
And into waiting
Mouths;
Some blame the prey
Who fatten
Them
For their lumbering
Weight.
Monday, September 19, 2011
I operated this thing
HAND-POWERED FOOD CHOPPER
No. 1, patented Oct. 12, 1897
A dusty device among the souvenirs
appeared here, once from the kitchen possessions
of our great-grandparents, the Wildgrubes,
on their farm near Sheboygan WI
In the days before electric food processors,
muscle power turned that crank
over and over,
over and over.......
grinding chunks of mean meat
into hamburger,
or miscellaneous pig lips and choice snouts
and etcetera into sausage stuffing.
No home was without one,
no estates were without banks of them
for the domestics to churn,
sweat added to the mix.
What's that you say?
You've sort of been through a meat-grinder?
A ramming spiral shaft pushed
and mashed your being through, particle-ized?
You babes born for better things,
innocent lambs.
butchered,
on Wisconsin farms and boardrooms?
Laid low in school-houses
or factories
To be fresh-ground,
meat in conservative markets?
It is not without blood.
"Times change,
and with them,
their
demands."
.............
Ruth Elies and mother Anna Wildgrube
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