Tag: art
member name: Terry Collett
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September 11, 2007 09:18 AM EDT --
We all know what men are after even if we don’t admit it, said Marlene, sitting back in her chair by the pool watching the men and woman swimming. They want domination and the rights to the bodies . . .
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November 04, 2007 03:07 AM EST --
They say
That Monet
Painted this view
That you
And I being less talented
Take for granted.
But did he,
Like me
Have one like you
To view?
Which I
Before I die
Would want to capture . . .
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April 23, 2008 09:25 AM EDT --
"My art is my god," said George. "My easel is my altar, my brushes and oils the body and blood of my soul. Turpentine is in my skin and cloth; it seeps into my very heart. I frequent the . . .
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May 21, 2009 08:27 AM EDT --
Gigi reclines on her back and drags on her cigarette and looks intently at the off-white ceiling with its cobwebs suspended from the corners and the dull curtains almost in tatters and muses on Jean's . . .
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October 09, 2009 09:25 AM EDT --
Vincent puts down his brush. His eyes stare at the canvas. Standing back, he feels the cold wall behind him. The painting seems to move, to have a life of its own. His hands shake; his head aches. . . .
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August 02, 2009 04:04 PM EDT --
You could have watched her All day from where you were; Could have sat and stared And taken in the way She walked; the way Her hands held cups Or moved plates, The way her eyes lit up When she saw . . .
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July 30, 2009 02:45 PM EDT --
Gauguin sat here They say, but now Goldpin sits, his eyes
On the paintings On the wall, not his But other artists
Who paid their way By selling for their keep, For food to eat,
Or just to see . . .
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November 25, 2007 03:32 AM EST --
Grace would sit for hours staring at the painting that Minton had painted of her; her eyes would move along the canvas taking in each aspect as if for the first time. The tints of her dress; the way the . . .
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April 21, 2008 03:35 AM EDT --
One morning after a deep sleep, Rosina woke up to find her Aunt Petunia sitting on the end of the bed, filing her ghostly nails, wearing a lurid red dress that came above the knees, her hair . . .
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July 22, 2008 12:56 PM EDT --
What have we here?
Said Hank, sipping
His ice-cold beer,
Giving a stare
At some young dame
With fine tattoos
Upon her frame,
Her arms, her neck.
He gave a sigh,
O me, oh my,
There's . . .
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