Sculptors
Disposable Bodies
Where are my sisters and comrades? Where is the beautiful lady without head or legs below her thighs who instead offers a torso nude and smooth red curving into a svelte waist clinched by a lovely but lethal belt of black? Where is her aesthetic soulmate naked and sensually blue save for elegant feathers and…
Read MoreByline: Ex-Slave Gordon
You’ve seen me. You’ve seen me many times and would like to forget. But you can’t. I won’t let you. More importantly, the people who did this wanted everyone to remember I belonged to them and when I escaped they and their bloodhounds chased me several days through mosquito-filled swamps and forests and dragged me…
Read MoreSlab Man
My husband left me last night not for another woman but because he just found out I loved his best friend but that shouldn’t have mattered much since that guy’d dumped me a couple of weeks earlier. I sure was feeling bad this afternoon and told my boss I had a fever and needed to…
Read MoreColossal Head and the Mesoamerican Ballgame
I know it’s not right by your standards but I don’t care about them or you, so my relentless almond eyes and flat ears, open and acute below the helmet on my Colossal Head 5, carved six-feet high into three tons of basalt, are aimed at viewers in museums who surround me on three sides.…
Read MoreBetty Finch Transforms Gourds into Sculptures
I’ve long been collecting art with enthusiasm many call obsessive but confess to being indifferent when notified by postcard last month that the Bakersfield Museum of Art would be featuring an exhibition of gourd sculptures by retired police officer Betty Finch. What the hell is a gourd? I’d heard of people drinking from them but…
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