Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

Mudpuddle selecting the very best structures to reflect, in order to devise a fascinating architectural inspiration.  For example, architect Frank Gehry has been known to walk nearby.  Central Park, near the Rambles - December 2012

Ok.  I know, Whiteish and Yellow Christmas Lights don't exactly look like this to you and me, but have we truly considered how these same lights might look to a Cannon EOS?  I thought not! Looking South on Park Avenue from 92nd Street, 2012

I hear the tangled memories, snagging through my mind, Riding along the dry arroyos. We knew each other once; I feel it in my chest, I hear the fizzled echoes. Rich red and golden passion singing through the wires, Vanishing before my eyes As if it never was. ColoradoTelephone Pole, through the widow of a bus

Many celebrated artists have difficulty fitting into the Museum of Modern Art or the Metropolitan Museum.  One of our local rather famous artist requires a very large palette  and a very expansive venue--much too much for either museum.     However, our  Artist has often been convinced to splash beauty on the more liberal outside walls.  This temporal display was witnessed by many lucky New Yorkers as they passed by the South Wall of the Winter Metropolitan of a late afternoon..

Shhh, Listen, do  you hear the quiet sounds of midnight? The silent ringing of the bells?  

Cheerful New York Artists selling their work to last minute shoppers on Fifth Avenue

There’s tar at the edge of the new asphalt road; Cold in winter, soft and sticky in the summer sun There’s nothing like a paved road/ I guess it takes a gravel, dusty, dirt-filled one to know the difference. When I walk along my mental tar-edged road, it’s December: dark, lights bubbling in the window evergreen, me longing for a way to comprehend my aching ribcage, frantic bloody cuticles. Did I eat that other box of cookies, and what will I do for the money? Dig into the old purse, the cushions fed by drunken, snoring, singing, whining, biting, sniping parties? How I dreamed of fixing everything. I new I could! (Throat aching, fingers hurting, luminescent cookies in the closet corner.) I’ll wake up willing, armed and ready: mending broken pieces, gluing back the days of childhood.  Visiting the slant-roofed farmhouse, grass high, hollow tree, full of whiskey.  Dinner at the table with the extra piece of plywood, how I dreamed of home, carsick, staring at the fading countryside. Y