Gods and Foolish Grandeur

" Portrait d’un homme et de ses enfants " circa 1810.  Musée de Tessé. This is a painting I absolutely love.  Formerly ti...

I'm afraid I've gotten very lax in keeping up with this blog.  I used to post rather frequently.  But now there never seems to be en...

When hiking up in Forest Park, I'm continually astounded that many, if not most, of those whose path I cross are runners.  The ...

When I was a kid, there were quite a few films that I saw multiple times on television.  Those were the days, in the 60s and 70s, when they ...

It was G's birthday yesterday.  Her birthday is one of several days in the year that brings about frenzied Photoshopping.  We both indul...

I haven't blogged in a very long time.  The delay was made even longer as, on the last day of April, I fell while out walking.  The var...

Recently, I was sent a lovely email by one of my collectors.  He and his wife live in California, but over the years they've purchased f...

So, it's like this: I ride the streetcar home from work on Mondays and Thursdays, both ways on Saturdays.  I never sit on the streetca...

There's something about putting on and, especially, taking off a glove.  I don't know what it is, exactly, that I find so transpo...

This past Saturday, I co-emceed at a literary event.  Gigi and several other fantastic writers - some real heavy-hitters among them - read a...