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Moving forward: I rescued a Robin Masterman painting from Vermont Street. It is a work of pure genius, even though the Star of David has been emblazoned on it (that's an odd place for it [thoughts click into place]). "If I ever find the one who mocked the caged bird separated from its loved ones, then I will plunge myself dangerously into the breach from whence the knowledge came."
My long collage, reminiscent of a narrow train track in its layout, and my latest in visual production, needed support from the softer side of life. As I go along I've been layering out the copyrighted features of the models involved. When I got to the top layer I carefully placed pictures of men in ascent. One of them is half nude, the others would look great in the buff to some woman or another. Only an insecure man would forever produce, in the genre of multimedia, pieces that only other men could enjoy. I don't sell my artistic works. In addition to all the pieces of abstract art I've done, which have no value except that I created them, I have produced the visual equivalent of poetry for someone who can't read -- pictures of men over pictures of women. It remains incomplete, as of right now, and won't be until no photographer can stake a claim to any part of it.