Art

I call him Art. Could just as easily call him Sculpture, but it doesn't have the same ring to it.

He sits in my den, surrounded by Hopper prints, my Turkish rug and a large number of books in varying degrees of banality. Coffee table epics with glossy pix of Slovakia, to Marukami novels which leave the reader bewildered (about the book, and about life).

He has only ended up as a Blip because last night I was trying to decide what to do with my mint condition iPod which is 100% unused since my iPhone arrived. Sell, give to someone, or keep for when my iPhone expires?

So I tried the photo function. Very grainy results, but might just be the flash.

Art was brought home from Lithuania about 1997. An outburst of artistic expression of all kinds was in full flow at the time. A reaction to generations of suppression under the Soviets. Art is a product of that era, so precious.