Musing of Far Distant Shores. The life of a dreaming girl stuck in a small town. As I sat writing page after page. And no more words would come. There my hand did stay. That the pen I held. Would once again scratch across the paper. Yet no one inch did my pen move.

The Soul and Her Muse. An old man stood beside the corpses of the farmer, his wife and child and did not weep. Nor did he ask of them why they took their lives. Buddha by the Big Tree.

Working With My Favorite Knife 2017. gouache on board 9 x 12. Sorry folks, no time to write. I have been painting, but other responsibilities and the wicked flu, that has been going around, have prevented me from getting on the blog. I am not so sure about combining my painting blogging with my cooking blogging. I will figure it out. Almost forgot - whats my favorite knife to work with in my kitchen? .

Baltimore Afro-American newspaper, 1928. Photographcourtesy of the Smithsonian Institution.

By adevereux on March 4, 2010. I was thinking about how boring traditional tombstone exhibition labels can be. Not always, but often. But labels hold all the narrative power. As easy as they are to skim or skip over, labels are the voice of an exhibition. So I was thinking about some alternative label concepts, which would inevitably transform an exhibition.