Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
I'VE GOT ROCKS IN MY HEAD (so I've been told)
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
I figure that this guy has just lost everything in the Market because his Broker was a 'Goniff' (Yiddish for thief) who had only his own interests at heart. So, either Our Man is going after the Goniff himself or he's about to send him this pistol wrapped in the NYTimes Stock Market pages with a note that says (Be honorable and due what you have to do.) I'd swear I got this idea from Shakespeare...ah yes, Anton and Cleop'tra. Chilling.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
TULIP LOSES ALL SENSE OF REALITY
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
I have a 12 year old grandson named Milo, who -- upon seeing this image for the first time-- asked "who's this Venus de Milo, anyway?" He and his brother Isaac and sister leila (both are 12 , also) spend time with me in my studio after school. We paint, wrestle, yell obscenities, do You-Tube and eat. But now their elsewhere-directed social activities leave me with nothing to do but CREATE! Ah: madness, frustration, hard work and breathless joy. Every day of my life. (With Venus de Milo looking over my shoulder.)
Monday, April 28, 2008
Dark Vader
This perfect white rose was sitting in a glass of water on my studio window very near where I keep my bottles of ink. Well, I reached up to refill my drawing pens with black ink and of course the large full bottle started to slip out of my hand but I caught it but not before it had done it's damage or should I say it's magic! You don't believe me? Why, I never would have done a thing like this to a perfect white rose now would I?
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
I must explain what you're looking at here: For starters, this is a framed
photograph of a massive truck passing under a metro overpass. Onto the glass of this framed photograph is reflected some bare trees growing outside a nearby window. This was such a compelling image that I was compelled to re-photograph it in it's ephemeral state on my wall. 2007
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
I'm even confused by the above title, it 'wrote itself ' I swear. So, onward towards clarity:
Confession: This blog is a substitute for a website. Ah, now I feel better. What I want this thing to do for me is primarily display newly concocted photographs, photographs that don't usually fall into any intelligent grouping. Never-the-less (hmmm, what a great old-fashioned phrase) this is the way my brain works. totally outside the box. (a modern phrase). So DON'T LOOK FOR ORDER! But, if you fell into viewing this website --whoops, I mean blog, either by design-- or by accident -- I'd be most happy to hear what you thought of it. contact: isadore2 (at)verizon.net
Folks, I deliberately replaced the @ sign with (at) so that I won't be deluged with automatic spam. You should of course instead insert the @ sign. I can't wait for the accolades to come rolling in....
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Look, here's how it goes: In 1948 I was 18 and living in L.A. where the only way to get to work was in your own car. So, borrowing 600 bucks from my Mom, I bought my first car: a clean 1939 black Chevy coupe. (I might add here that my job, my first job in life, was at the L.A. airport working for the Civil Aeronautics Administration delivering mail on rollerskates inside a giant hanger. Since then I've owned-- at one time or another-- 24 cars.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
This is not an ad for a new/old car. It is a straight photo of two tiny 1940 fords, 2 inches tall. (I won't tell you where they are manufactured.) Below you'll see how they become actors in an ongoing drama that evokes a driver's nightmares. Well, not just nightmares but also daydreams and passions.
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