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Amy Ackerman leans twoard the green gill with her Edward Learian yet somehow Yellow Submarinian "A Weight On Us All." Why do these fabululist peacocks and dolphinelephants cry? Do they weep at the inevitable house clearance in all our lives? Are those bountiful cornucopia so heavy? Or have the Owls merely lost their Pussycats?
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Amy Cote gets in touch with her felines in this budding, pliable, pullulating, kelly, childlike, frivolous painting titled: "Cat Dreams." |
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Just give me Mon-ee-ee-ee-e. Huh, that's what I want. "Cross Purposes" by John Jackson portrays at the almighty Greenback at a different angle. Like I once said to Frank on the Coney Island Wonder Wheel, "Oh No! It's the leaner." I am reminded of the old saw, "Don't let the cross cross you up." Whether it's a double-cross, a bob cross or a lost cross. Judging by the sheer tonnage of money reaped by tele-evangelists, I predict this unergonomic crucifix will do the same for Jackson.
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It's so nice to fool around with "Mother's Nature" by Paul Delamater. The verdant verdigris foliage crusted green man has Medusa like serpentage of the cranium. The expression is self pleased if slightly just sucked on a lime. Bronson assured me that even if the protuberant coiffure projections had many art lovers eyeballs stuck on it by the end of the crowded opening, it would just make it a better sculpture. |
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This crocodilian mask is somewhat alligatorian with it's panhandle bands of Okeechobeesque green slime. Skyler Oshero declined to elucidate further by titling it "Untitled."
Dig the crazy sunglasses, built in infra-red raspberry antennae and natty olive dreds.
Definately a reptile cut out for the Ft. Lauderdale lounge lizard life.
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"Acrylon Butadiene Styrene Forest" is a fair do not consume warning for this comin' atcha 3D decoupage. Yet I am self-destructively drawn to suckle on the nipple-like prongs.
Amy Manso's thrusting bas relief is suggestive of the Colliseum or the overgrown ruin of a futuristic post armageddon neo stone age amphitheater of some kind.
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The convergence of global warming and bucolic fields of grain unleashes massive black tornadoes.
Sandra Nystrom manages to convey enormity and incomprehensible mightyness in a fairly compact painting called simply "Landscape 1" Is the second twister (just off to the right) about to merge with the first and do a meterological Do-See-Do on Farmer Green's pink?
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Every day you spend fishing adds a day to your life. It's really true! Just ask Flick Ford who literally stopped the clock for me while I was gazing at his lovely watercolor fine finned filets. The "Brook Trout" has lots of little blue dots that are more psychedelic than a Peter Max poster.
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Helen Kaufman takes us back to the age of dinosaurs "When Trees Were Ferns." There are gigantic fossilized tree ferns by a bridge near Gilboa, the size of big old oak stumps. Gotta go check them out.
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"Gestation" by Nancy Lelah Ward. The unfledged naive budding blooming grassy asparagus spears of life spring forth from the grey ovoid egglike uterine gonad.
It does appear to have a bifurcation however, well snuggled in a fluffy fur merkin.
The actual succor provider is the rich pink incubating environment. |
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Francine Margolis delivers a "Be Art" existentialist womanifesto in this detail, and I am only too happy to comply! The moving hand having writ, moves on.
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"Gathers No Moss" has a very un-green dark black background but I decided to play a trick and stick some green reflections in there. And my silver head.
Erica Minglis actually adhered a mossless rolling stone to this picture (no, not Keith) in the center of the "O" in stone. She is such a kidder. |
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"Playtime at the Meadow" by Howard Hopkins. What can I say? I will let Robert Frost say it for me while I dreamily gaze into this idyllic spring tableaux...
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Intrigue permeates the textile tactile texture of Marlene Bloomer's bloomin' aesthetic jig-saw puzzle of life, "Galloping Grace... Flying." The little lock of hair is locked up but dangling threads might unloosen the tie that binds.
Kelly, Allen, and Slick. My three favorite graces. Yours? Hers? |
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Sandra Palmer Shaw is No fly on the wallpaper. "Canine Conundrum" is dogs woven into the wallpaper. The warp and Woof are radically foreshortened with the flattening device- pages of cursive text.
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Dave Channon paints a ten thousand foot tall Bonsai tree rising from the tidal marshes of Rockaway Island in "Approaching Turbinate" (which refers to the conical seashell just a rollin' along the bay.) |
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