One eye is a small hole in the pavement. The other eye is a piece of damp bark. Her mouth and nose were made with mud. She briefly materialized at the corner of Here and There, a section of sidewalk I stroll over almost every day. There’s a giant fig tree watered regularly by sprinklers, so the pavement is often damp. Apparitions flutter through the shades of gray. When I have time, I help them embody and we share a secret or two before sun and wind vanquish them back to spirit.
I am offering a limited edition of ten prints. Details and more photos in the menu for Limited Edition Prints.
Sidewalk Face 1166.
I have restocked the Limited Edition Print Gallery. Hurray! Link in menu.
This guy, Sidewalk Face 983, was made in 2018. I had forgotten about him, but he waved at me as I was going through the archives. I love his simplicity. Mostly he is a tumble of desiccated desert plant leaves. I rearranged them a bit but not too much. I don’t like my faces to be neat and tidy, I like lots of character and feeling, which I think he has.
I had some requests for the little bird print, and I’m offering two new ones, a sweet pavement face that looks like a cloud and a knowing wet cement wall face.
They would all enjoy saying hi to you!
If you don’t want wrinkles, you need to strike while the iron is hot. If you want to give someone a concussion, strike at any time.
What the heck does this mean? I don’t even remember writing it. I came here to write something else and this was waiting for me.
Maybe I can make it work?…….Okay, I’ve got something. I think it means that things can always go two ways. One of those ways necessitates preparation. The other way just needs raw emotion.
I’ve been offering my sidewalk faces as limited-edition prints. This is something I have wanted to do for a really long time, as in years long time. It’s amazing how long it can take to do things that you really want to do. It can take so long you could question if you really want to do it. For example, say that you really want to wear freshly ironed, straight as a pin linen pants. You see yourself in these gorgeous pants looking like a million bucks, like you haven’t a care in the world on your remote Caribbean island writing poetry and hosting fabulous friends while wafting about in your timeless linen pants forcing those visiting friends to huddle together in wonder at your effortless effervescence. But seeing it and being it and are not the same. That vision is not about spending your time ironing and yet those pants have to be ironed. They don’t get wrinkle free on their own. We often want the fruits of labor we can’t stand to make.
But I have made the labor. I have ironed the wrinkles out of my prints and now I can offer them to you. And because of that I don’t want to throw the iron at anybody’s head, most especially my own. Hurray! Check out my gorgeous new offerings here (and also in the Limited Editions menu).