not Laocoon

one reaction to the daily news. If you could, please let me know the statue from which this head is copied

Steve

Steve Ashby
I met Steve Ashby in 1972 doing a project for Chuck Perdue’s folklore class.
Ashby's house
Steve lived here, in Delaplane Virginia.
“Steve Ashby lived his entire life in a small town in Virginia, an unincorporated community roughly fifty miles west of Washington, DC. The son of an emancipated slave, he was the second of twelve children. Outside of a brief stint as a restaurant waiter, Ashby spent most of his life working the soil as a farmer and gardener until he retired in 1950. Although he had tinkered with small-scale wooden sculptures throughout his life, it was only after the death of his wife in 1960 that he started to experiment with figural sculptures.–National Gallery of Art
Steve told me he’d dream things at night, wake up and carve them in the morning.

Ashby creation
I don’t remember seeing a TV in Steve’s house, but somewhere he must have run into Donny and Marie Osmond.

final page
Chuck Perdue let me make scrapbooks.

Mouthy

in lauren's shop
Tilly is “mouthy”, likes greeting people by taking their hands and feet in her mouth. Work remains to be done…

take me back

made me laugh
Take me way, way, way back, way back
To when, when I understood
When I understood the light, when I understood the light–Van Morrisson

White Dummies

     We are the hollow men     We are the stuffed men     Leaning together     Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!     Our dried voices, when     We whisper together     Are quiet and meaningless     As wind in dry grass     Or rats' feet over broken glass     In our dry cellar

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar–T.S.Eliot