I made this for Mother’s Day for my little boy. pic.twitter.com/0aV2EXlWTL
— tiny elephant (@tinyelephant333) May 2, 2018
Category Archives: books
Do you like art and the creative process? Does the “eccentric” life of the “typical” artist intrigue you? Scare you? Amuse you? Inspire you? Read on…
I would like to cordially invite you to join my ARTISTS’ group on Facebook:
It is a private, invitation-only group, but if you request membership, an admin will approve you as long as you’re not a bot.
Not only do I post my own work and artistic musings, as well as upcoming shows and #contemporary #art news, but I have SO MANY uber-talented friends worldwide, whose work I love to share with the public every day.
You could be one of them! All art is the soul, ergo beautiful.
So far the group has almost 4k (!!! — so grateful) members, so if you would like to either be a voyeur or an exhibitionist, please be my guest.
To me, my readers and followers are all VIPs.
Try it out and see if you like it…you can always leave! Ain’t no Hotel California, lol…
Feel free to also follow me on #Twittter: @jjgrape.
(I heretofore take no responsibility for any profanities or insanities contained therein. Twitter is fun! No rules. Just what we painters like best.) 😀
It’s my happy place — besides the library, the easel, or in front of my iMac. 🙂
Above are a few samplings of my paintings, but this group is dedicated to sharing the work of my many artist friends from all around the globe: a virtual #gallery of sorts! What fun.
(But it is strictly bring your own wine and cheese… 😦 Sincere apologies. Hehe.)
Stasis in darkness.
Then the substanceless blue
Pour of tor and distances.
How one we grow,
Pivot of heels and knees!–The furrow
Splits and passes, sister to
The brown arc
Of the neck I cannot catch,
Berries cast dark
Black sweet blood mouthfuls,
Hauls me through air—-
Flakes from my heels.
Godiva, I unpeel—-
Dead hands, dead stringencies.
And now I
Foam to wheat, a glitter of seas.
The child’s cry
Melts in the wall.
Am the arrow,
The dew that flies,
Suicidal, at one with the drive
Into the red
Eye, the cauldron of morning.
Yeah. Hi. Well. Um, er…this project was supposed to be a random and – operative word – INTEGRATED amalgam of paintings , prose, journalism, drawings/multimedia art , poetry, and photography – all by me, of course. Me, me, me. I am so sick of me. But these things – these ramblings of the soul – are piling up in my house and in my mind and in my heart and I must release them.
So, while I have started this endeavor in a rather odd way, I will attempt to continue it without being so art-centric. But as I asked myself earlier, as a single mother of a laptop-obsessed two-year-old, how can I write anything worthwhile while I am attempting to scrape multigrain strawberry cereal bars out of the carpet to the backdrop of a waaaaaaaaay too loud Dora the Explorer DVD? Dammit, I am going to try! SO, here goes….something.
Janice J. Cunningham 1.15.11