Art 2018 A


ART
by Marcus Parsons



GALLERIES
2018     2017     2005–2016      Favorites


2018

A   B   C
NEW>> DEF & G


Gallery A

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Homage to MeatHomage to Meat








All the TimeAll the Time








Smile for the CameraSmile for the Camera








I Won't Be—I Won’t—








Progress IIProgress I








Progress IProgress II








ManMan








Flight IIFlight








Fine Thank YouFine Thank You






Through the DarknessThrough the Darkness







Don't You EverDon’t You Ever







Low RoomLow Room







Free As Can BeFree As Can Be







LookingLooking







Say the WordSay the Word







Swimming UphillSwimming Uphill







Anything GoodAnything Good







Accursed EggAccursed Egg





 
Glad to HelpGlad to Help




Known BeyondKnown Beyond




What CrueltyWhat Cruelty




Tripping the Light FantasticTripping the Light Fantastic




Big Fish Little FishBig Fish Little Fish




Blue MigrationBlue Migration




ParadiseParadise




It is ComingIt is Coming




PerfectPerfect




LimitsLimits




SunSun




First Regard / Last RegardFirst Regard, Last Regard




Shakin' ItShakin’ It




StyleStyle




Moment with Child IMoment with Child




Young PersonYoung Person




Rather NotRather Not




Innocent AbroadInnocent Abroad




Inner PeaceInner Peace




Touch MeTouch Me




Best of TimesBest of Times




Trumpy DumpTrumpy Dump

(President Shithole delivering as promised)



EncounterEncounter




ABCABC




Face IFace I




Face IIFace II




MorningMorning




ConfrontationConfrontation




WarmingWarming




DesireDesire




SnakesSnake




Vermicular JourneyVermicular Journey




Blue EyesBlue Eyes

For a long moment I stood and stared, unseeing, my mind empty. There was something helpful in that, a relief.
 But I can say no more about it. Words that might have helped me do that approached my awareness but never arrived. I could see them in my mind,  and make out some of their letters, but too few to read. Aside from what I have already said here, the experience was  inexpressible.

— M.P

* * *

“…it was like seeing,
Or thinking you were seeing, the young moon rising
In the early days of its month, behind the clouds.”
………………..
“It’s as in sleep, in the quiet of the night,
Our languid eyelids close and in their dream
Won’t tell wherever we are nor where we’re going,
Or trying to go, nor can we get there where –
Ever where might be and who knows who it is
We maybe are, our legs gone weak, no way
To get there where? …

— from The Aeneid, by Virgil, translated from the Latin by David Ferry




Water with LemonWater with Lemon



 





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