I usually think of street art in the way the Wiki defines it - spontaneous, unsanctioned pieces that appear, more precisely, from the street - i.e., on sidewalks, sides of buildings, parking strips, median strips, and roundabouts.
It can also refer to planned, sanctioned pieces like Seattle's Waiting for the Interurban and the Dance Steps on Broadway. Read more about Street Art
I love my country. I love some other countries as well. I'm a country-lover in general. So if you're still stuffed into the lazyboy, but up for some armchair traveling, come with me to:
France
Italy
Turkey Read more about Thanks for the Countries
The Rock of Gibraltar. The Stone of Scone. St. Peter. The Rock of Ages. The Rosetta Stone. The Lia Fáil (Stone of Destiny) on the Hill of Tara. Rock & Roll.
I like rocks. Rocks are naturally occurring solid aggregates of minerals. The Earth's outer solid layer, the lithosphere, is made of rock. The world, both literal and literary, is full of them. They are the aggregate, the collection of the many into one, on which life itself makes its home. Read more about The Rock
I was all set today to regale you with the story of Buffalo Bill and the Queen, but when I went to look for the details, I found this: Read more about So Much For Another Legend
Bangor, Maine. Ironwork at the corner of Stephen King's house.
Read more about Boo!
What makes life worth living for a tree? Oxygen production? Really? What goes through your mind every time you exhale? This one's for you, broccoli my love? Show me some gratitude, oh lawn of mine?
I didn't think so.
I think trees are in it for the art. Look at any oak desk, maple cabinet or knotty pine wall, and you will get some idea of what has been happening over the years within the living heart of trees. Yet lovely as are the pieces we construct from a tree's original conception, it can be worth our while to wait for the finished piece. Read more about Stourhead
My favorite robin is an English robin. But I didn't know they existed outside of nursery rhyme books until I went there and saw one. I imagine most of us think of the little robin redbreast that sat on apple boughs in the picture books of childhood as the fanciful figments of poetic imagination. If we think of them at all. Those fat cheery little birds with a puff of ruddy breast feathers. They do not look at all like the "real" robins that are so ubiquitous in our yards and gardens. Read more about My Favorite Robin
A flower garden of architecture. That was the phrase that popped into my head last week when I came out of the Art Institute and looked once more at the Chicago skyline. Read more about My Kinda Town
I can't swear this is Avalon - I captured this picture from another long lost website - but it looks so like the view from the top of Glastonbury Tor that I think we can make a case. Read more about Mists of Avalon
