Showing posts with label Natural Arts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Natural Arts. Show all posts

Thursday, December 17, 2020

Laughing Lhursday*

Natural Arts:
Butterface on knife point

* [For first time visitors]: Typo in the title? Nah. It's just that
I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

Tuesday, May 05, 2020

Thursday, November 06, 2014

Laughing Lhursday*

(Last) smile.


* [For first time visitors]:
Typo in the title? Nah. It's just that I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Dandelion Tree.

One stem,
sixty-nine blossoms.

Saturday, March 15, 2014

After the Market

Uff, I forgot grapes,
oranges and champignons.
Ah, and rucola.


Thursday, May 30, 2013

Laughing Lhursday

Exploring the village.


* [For first time visitors]:
 
Typo in the title?
Nah. It's just that I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Laughing Lhursday

ba-na-na-na ...
Typo in the title?
Nah. It's just that I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

Thursday, August 09, 2012

Sunday, December 04, 2011

Natural Arts

Pedro Potato and Olivia Onion watching*
green cabbage growing.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Monday, October 10, 2011

Saturday, October 01, 2011

Monday, November 22, 2010

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Monday, March 22, 2010

Sparrows cussing like sailors

After their hibernation since last Thursday even my muscles enjoy a glorious soreness. It's good that spring comes! Still, I am glad - and I think my muscles are, too - that I decided to cut the fruit-trees in late autumn, as shortening parts of ...
... the hazels (one girl, one boy) and ...

one jasmine (the left one is an elder) ...

... by about 2,5-3 three metres was enough for a beginning, as - old sportsman's spirit - I don't use a motor-saw.

Cutting the jasmine I had been hesitating for five years. However, now it had to be done, although bad conscience was upon me; and not wrongly.
The longer I was busy with the jasmine, the more little visitors I got. They sat down on one of the few long branches which were left, and although I do not speak Sparrowish fluently, I knew the little fellows were cussing like sailors that, at least for a while, they will have to find another sleep-tree.
Which is why - to make up for -, immediately after my outrage, on the other side of Seanhenge I planted ...

... voilà: Seanwood Forest.

Sunday, September 06, 2009

Natural Arts: Priscilla Potato


In front of the stone, where once strawless Berry sat,
pondering about his mission,
smilingly stands Priscilla Potato* - without hat,
but obviously having a lovely vision.

To cut it this time slightly shorter,
it's not about a pint of porter.
No. Obviously following her vision
Priscilla changes the position.


Like a fakir on his bed of nails
she meditates,
and although it may sound corny
comes to the conclusion
that often love is rather thorny
and can end in deep confusion.

Rather then an end like Finn!
And thus she spake:
Don't say Nay.
Eat me, for love's sake.
Which I did. And what delish.
By the way:
With Priscilla I had fish.
And afterwards a drop of Gin.

humbly dedicated to the Topaz of Poetry
by Mc Seanagall


* For some moments I felt tempted to underline the beauty of Priscilla's smiling lips with a touch of fuchsia-red, but then the art would not have been natural, anymore, hm?