sitting on the wooden chair, watching the horse, in the groom's position. night vision in a fraction of the winter night. task given to me by them and until next year my rest is here, like a groom, breaking the branches and facing the horse

Result #1

. Later, though, I got a bad feeling. From the horse's barking, I learned that it was an angry mountain lion; after all, it was about two hundred pounds, not a gentle creature. I could understand why people thought it was, since the vat and grill were almost always near. I had never felt more out of control or more of a burden, but I couldnt figure out why people would think it was funny. Did I step out of line? Did I, by being, as I suspected, a little too direct, incite the anger of these creatures? Only a few people really noticed that the horse was not a man—an eagle, an oryx, and a coyote. I was the only one whose resentment, even if it came from an angry, over-exaggerated position, went unrecognized by everyone. And I was probably the only one who didnt immediately realize that in our society, anger is often a dirty word.

Result #2

sitting on the wooden chair, watching the horse, in the groom's position. night vision in a fraction of the winter night. task given to me by them and until next year my rest is here, like a groom, breaking the branches and facing the horse. Sometimes a thought or two is sent through my mind and sometimes it makes its way to my mind, but never to the chair. As for the most striking part of this work, the three female figures of Despina, Dia, and Lady Casterford. Here the shadows are so thick that they obscure the faces. One has to look up at the face in order to be able to see the shadows. They are part of the silhouette of the head, but because they are broken up by the creases they are no longer recognizable. The one who takes a picture is expected to make them part of her image. The other two-thirds of the body is left blank, so that she can see herself without them. And they are made in her memory.In the last room of the exhibition are three more drawings. The former, Parcores, a portrait of three girls, two girls with daggers and pistols, and a girl with a rabbit head. The third drawings are reminiscent of photographs. There is one that shows the decapitated head of a wolf and the faces of three other girls. It is almost a photograph but the girl's cheek is more than a mere mirror image. The drawing is a mystery. In a sense we are talking about the unphotographed face of a dead human. There is no intervening photographic detail. No dolly, no fumbling. This is one of the most beautiful of photographs.Parcores is a portrait of a girl who is not a particularly strong girl. She has a lot of anxiety about what might happen if she gets into the wrong situation. If she is somehow placed in a compromising situation she will probably be able to master it. The drawing shows a young girl walking through the woods. She has the courage to turn her back on the hunters. She stops, takes a few steps, and then crosses the space.

Result #3

to shake him. It was a wonderful idea, but never came off.The use of a real language for paintings such as Dancing Giant, Painted Garden, and World Turn is as appealing as it is functional. By creating the illusion of a really large object and the linguistic device of drawing your attention to what you thought should be there, Weaver creates a joyful, exciting, and well-lived sculpture that really works. The work has a sexy aura which suits the moment. The horse and its rider are the only thing that is real. The piece is clean and light, the color of a window or on a polished mirror. And as you look at it you can see yourself and your reflection, just as you can look at a mirror in the moonlight at night.

Result #4

, and . . . to the chest of the chair to see the sky. The combination of Utray's vision of the unknown, that of Eudoxes at night, and the reality of everyday life with the dreamlike representation of it, is very different from the apparition of John's world, which was a fantasy with artistic and spiritual meaning and a spiritual reality. Though we are all at some time occupied with the yin of business and the yang of mama. and the yin of my mother, I am not ashamed to say that, when my family thought of me, they always thought of me in white clothing, as white as snow, and with white nudes. They all know that I am a servant and that I am the one and only mistress of the house, and that I always leave it alone. This is an ancient proverb. A slave is not even to be despised, but he is not to be acknowledged as free. The Chinese are famous for their texts that the masters must obey, though you may or may not be aware that they are being commanded to write. They may not even be aware that they are being commanded to act. They simply beget others to follow their rules. If the rule was no writing, then it should be no writing. How shall I write? asked Myra in a poem. She means to say, I am free to write. Does it matter? Will I get caught? Will I be free? This question, which has no easy answers, is not just a curiosity about social etiquette but also an existential one. It makes an odd, unexpected echo of the opening lines of a poem by Yeats: When the world is young and makes one hear the cry of the dying, one must look on the world as a thing of suffering. Let that never fail.

Result #5

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