“Mount Desert Dragons” acrylic on canvas 16″ x 20″ © 2007 Tyler Darvintyne; all rights reserved

It’s wonderful to think that The PCQ has enough history and pure BULK to it that I can be distracted for so many weeks and still have new and renewable readers drop by everyday. Welcome to you all!

Over the summer, I didn’t post as much as I expected but I knew that I was doing well and good by taking a break from what had been a months-long task of putting this zine and its archives into the new format. I needed to get outside, enjoy the too-short summer months, do some physical work and complete other tasks that had been put off too long. It was a great summer.

However, I didn’t expect September to be such a bust as far as posting! I was so inspired and had great ideas for several new articles and posts, but guess what? I didn’t have time.

“dark matter telescopic” 12 x 9 acrylic on canvas © 2007 Tyler Darvintyne; all rights reserved

A trip to see my son and granddaughter came up unexpectedly. My son had the opportunity to show his art work last weekend in Bar Harbor, Maine and he needed help—babysitting and otherwise. I’ve included in this post some samples of his art. I think of it as pure energy with a large dollop of joy. I love it!

“Skies of Van Gogh” acrylic on canvas; 11″ x 14″
by Tyler Darvintyne © 2007 all rights reserved

His first outing was exhausting work for all of us, but a big success. He not only sold quite a bit of art, he learned a massive amount about how to show and sell his work.

I also got to spend almost 10 days with my granddaughter, Acadia, also known as “Cadi.” She’s 27 months old. What an age! I kept thinking, No wonder Tyler is so creative these days, he’s got Cadi around to inspire him everyday. But of course, we all know that it’s not that simple. Children are exhausting and Tyler is raising her all by himself with no family nearby to give him any relief. I think the explosion of creativity is as much about needing to do something other than parenting as much as anything else.

“Land Ho” acrylic on canvas 9″x12″ © 2007 Tyler Darvintyne all rights reserved

Whatever the reason, it’s certainly working for him. Here’s the artist, Darvintyne with a few of his paintings:

And finally, though I don’t post too many purely personal items here, I can’t resist another image, this one of Cadi. Long-time readers will remember her newborn to infant photos from the original PCQ subscriber’s page. She’s still the best!

aka “GRANCY”

For more of Darvintyne’s work go to: quintessential abstractions- http://tylermetzger.wordpress.com

[-painting, process, interview-]

Interview with artist, Donna Marsh
by Nancy Waldman

what I’m reading; oil on canvas, 8 x 16; © 07 donna marsh all rights res.

Donna is an internet friend whose juicy paintings have inspired me to begin painting again after a long time away from it. I knew that she had stopped painting for years and has returned to it fairly recently, so I asked her questions that are pertinent to this process of picking up a “lost art” and also ones that her paintings made me wonder about. I share my questions and Donna’s answers with you in the expectation that there are others out there who have gotten away from a creative activity that they love; those who need a push to get back to it.

Whether or not you’re in that situation, I know you’ll enjoy reading Donna’s story, her thoughts about painting and of course, seeing a few of Donna’s more recent paintings. If you are thinking about picking up a lost art, here is your nudge in the right direction.

green room with mirror; oil on canvas, 14 x 18; © 2007 donna marsh all rights reserved

What got you back into painting after a long time away from it?

I was working as a cashier at a grocery store. An old painter who has a name around here started talking art to me whenever I tallied his oranges. He gave me a book of his paintings. I also accepted an invitation to go see some of them. This was really exciting for me because I hadn’t thought about painting in a long time. After two years in a college fine arts program life moved on the way it does and I just forgot about it. I never really decided to stop. I just forgot I did it. When Mr. Nemeth found out I had bothered to study he wanted to see my paintings. I didn’t have any. He said, “But you don’t stop. You never stop. You can take a rest sometimes but you don’t stop.” Then he never stopped asking for that painting until I produced it. He had an answer for everything too. When I told him I didn’t have any paint he picked a day to go downtown and buy some. He gave me brushes. Later on he advised me to quit my job because I wasn’t painting enough.

I told him I needed the money. His answer, “The world looks after artists.” What a wonderful way to think. I thought it was a bit nuts but he was born in 1919. He had to know a thing or two.

It was like coming back to life to paint again.

houses, Dorval; oil on canvas, 20 x 20, © 2007 donna marsh all rights reserved

What’s been most difficult about getting back into it?

There was a lot of fear in the beginning. People see paintings. They’re hard to hide. Maybe I didn’t know how anymore and people would see that. I had to get over that “doing things right” anxiety because to get it back and then go forward, I had to be willing to let things go wrong. Also, painting is messy and takes up a lot of physical space. I had to learn how to take that space and defend that space because it was important. The same applied to the time. Defending the time has probably been the most difficult part of getting back into it. In school I was studying so nobody ever questioned it. It was hard to teach others and myself that “I’m home painting” does not equal “I’m doing nothing please interrupt me.”

balconies and fire escapes; oil on canvas, 30 x 36; © 2007 donna marsh, all rights reserved

Do you have any tips for other painters in the same situation?

People actually have opinions about what painters should paint. This can be a shock at first. But if they’re really dying for a certain image to come into being they can go paint it themselves. Paint what you want and don’t worry about it making sense or fitting in with what’s going on at the other easels or even fitting in with what you most admire. Sometimes these things don’t work out to be the same. I can sit for hours in front of large minimalist works that appear to be one grey, taking in the sweep of the brushstrokes and subtle gradations of light on the work. Though it wouldn’t excite me to paint that myself, I’m glad it excited Charles Gagnon enough to paint it. It’s taken me a few years to know what I want to paint. I find if it excites me I’m on the right track. Execution becomes a fascinating challenge.

let’s get lost; oil on canvas, 24 x 36 inches; © 2007 donna marsh, all rights reserved

Do you paint from photos? what’s in front of you? memory? imagination?

I paint from photos and from what’s in front of me. I’m interested in painting more from memory. I think there’s always imagination in a painting. I admit I’ve been working out some guilt over the use of photos. I wasn’t trained that way. It wasn’t allowed. But I like to have something to look at as a starting point and I found the terrain too limited for what I wanted to do if I only painted “in situ”. I still enjoy getting out for some plein air work or I’ll drag the outdoor easel over to something in the house that interests me. There’s a different feeling to translating space that’s all around me and in front of me. I like to stay in touch with that.

a hotel window; oil on canvas, 20 x 24; © 2007 donna marsh, all rights reserved

In what ways has your painting changed over the years?

The big difference between now and then (when I stopped) is that my colours are brighter and I’m less inhibited. I like to feel the paint and really muck around in it. Impasto is no longer a stranger to me. In the years since I’ve restarted, I find my understanding of what I want to paint has become much clearer and the paintings make more sense to me as a group. Also as I gain more control over the paint I get looser.

drive-thru service; oil on canvas, 22 x 28; © 2007 donna marsh, all rights reserved

And now, my turn—why Donna’s work is so inviting and appealing to me.

Part of it is what Donna talks about when she mentions Charles Gagnon. Often what we like is something that we would never choose to paint ourselves. I am drawn to Donna’s urban and suburban landscapes because I wouldn’t think to paint them but I like seeing them. Her use of thick paint and bright colours for these seemingly drab subjects makes me want to re-think them. It makes me believe that I haven’t really seen what’s there.

I am also drawn in by the energy in these paintings. The brush strokes, the lines drawn into them, the runny paint, all impart the bodily energy that Donna uses when she paints. The paint may have dried and hardened but the energy is still there as I look at them.

I also notice space, or lack of it, in Donna’s work. In ‘houses, dorval’ we get a long wide open view. The paint is applied going away from us, stretching out in response to the scene. In ‘balconies and fire escapes’ the lack of space is part of what makes it all so effective. The representation of over-lapping structures makes me feel the crowdedness of a city.

Being representational scenes, there is also light to consider. With Donna’s paintings, the light is conveyed through colour. I don’t get the feeling that there is any separation as she paints, between the objects and the atmosphere and quality of light that is with them. This gives the a glow to the work that seems to radiate from within.

Energy, colour, looseness, inner light. It’s not ’safe’ painting and, for me, that’s why they work.

Thanks, Donna for sharing your work and your thoughts with us. You can see more of Donna’s paintings at her flickr site. Donna lives with her family in Quebec, Canada where she just manages to carve out time and space to paint.

[-process, painting-]

Mama and baby gables

Originally uploaded by nuanc.

Hi all! I took some time off from posting during July. It’s been good to get outside and away from the computer. One of the things I’ve been doing is painting—but not my usual kind.

We are finishing up painting the roof line of our old house. This project started in 2002 when my husband put a pitched roof on the previously flat-roofed house. That gave us five new gables. (They are all different sizes so, in order to be able to refer to them without confusion, I dubbed them the Grandfather, Papa, Mama, Teenager and Baby Gables.)

We decided to give the outside of the house more detailing and a lot more colour! The painting started in 2003 with the largest of the gables. We are only now back around to where we started with the last little bit of trim near the roof. (Then we have the rest of the house to paint….after we put on a new front porch!)

The painting is, as you can see, fairly intricate and calls for precision. As I paint, I can’t help but be pulled back to other times in my life where I’ve used paint brushes on a daily basis to do art, not house painting. The feel of paint leaving a paint brush is very enticing, even when all you’re trying to do is paint a straight line.

The process puts me back in touch with that realm of paint and colour, edges and transitions, the build-up of colour and illusion of light that all go into painting a picture on paper or canvas. It is attracting me back to something that I once spent a lot of time doing but have been away from for a long time.

So what do I do with this urge that I’m not only feeling, but—now with this post—acknowledging in public?

It would be easiest for me to let it pass. That I have other interesting and important things to do with my time, other than paint, is true. That summer is busy enough without starting in on another creative pursuit is logical. But the real reason I have for resisting the urge to put paint on paper or canvas is that I’m afraid. I’m afraid of not being inspired once I get to it. I’m afraid that the urge is best felt and not acted on. I’m afraid that what was once a passion of mine, will not recur for me if I try it again. I’m afraid that what I paint will be unsatisfying and mediocre. All of these things and more have kept me away from painting for years now.

But here’s the other side of fear. One of the big reasons I started Practically Creative was to use it as a fulcrum (”an agent through which vital powers are exercised.”) in continuing to work through blocks and indecisions and self-defeatist issues that have always been a part of my creativity. I have fewer problems than I used to, but—as this as yet un-acted on urge shows—those issues never fully recede.

I’ll paint something other than my house today (it’s raining today, anyway). I’ll dust off some tubes of paint, pick a favourite brush or two and I’ll start small. I can’t promise myself much but I think I can manage enjoyment of the seductive feel of paint coming off a brush.

Then, I’ll see what appears.

Happy last days of July!

Here’s a post from my blog that has photos and details of the house painting project: The Up Side of Outside
Another post about the history of our old house: Of Things Dreamed Of

[-poetry, how-to-]

by Nancy Waldman

detail, Genji Scroll, Goto Museum, Tokyo, Japan

I recently returned from a Writing Retreat planned and presented by the members of my local writing group. One of our participants, Krista MacKeigan taught a wonderful workshop on poetry and inspired me to try some found poetry.

I chose the words for my poem from The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon, translated by Ivan Morris.

The process is, on the surface, simple.

Find a piece of prose and turn it into a poem. Use every word as it is found in the original. Krista suggested first trying non-fiction rather than novels or short stories. Newspapers, she found, were generally lacking in enough figurative language to make it interesting.

My suggestion is to choose a piece of non-fiction prose not for its subject, but instead for the language and imagery. Find words that interest you about a subject that you wouldn’t ordinarily write about.

Remember it is ‘found’ art, so don’t agonize over this part of the process. Play with it. Choose *lightly* and see what develops. In that way, you can be surprised by the results.

I found that this kind of exercise was instructive in the areas of line breaks and overall pacing of the poem. Because I was using “ready-made” words it took away that pressure of choosing the right ones and allowed me to focus on other parts of the process. This is very much like learning about composition by using magazine scraps for collage or even painting by numbers or tracing which –while perhaps not an artistic goal–can be instructive about how artists achieve certain effects.

Once you have done several, choose one to take a little farther by rearranging, removing and adding words. You can also experiment with doing a Parallel Poem.

Parallel Poems are derivations of existing poems rather than prose. The result is a poem very like another the original but using slightly different words, images or subject matter. See below for links to some examples of parallel poems. Use can one of your found poems, or take a poem you admire and make it your own while always, of course, giving credit to the original poet for his or her work.

Other online links:

- Parallel Poetry Workshop
- Found Parallel Poems
- an online word rearranger
- See another PCQ Found Poetry article
- Our Poetry links

about The Pillow Book:

Sei Shonagon was born in approximately 965 and served as lady-in-waiting at the Court of the Japanese Empress during the last decade of the tenth century. The Pillow Book was a kind of diary or journal, though whether only for herself or written for a contemporary or future audience, no one knows.

Here is another Found Poem from the same source:

30. Insects

The bell insect
and the pine cricket
the grasshopper
and the common cricket
the butterfly
and the shrimp insect;
the mayfly
and the firefly.

I feel sorry for
the basket worm.
He was begotten
by a demon,
and his mother,
fearing
that he would
grow up with his
father’s frightening
nature,
abandoned the
unsuspecting child,
having first wrapped him
in a dirty piece of clothing.

“Wait for me,” she said as she left.
“I shall return to you as soon
as the autumn winds blow.” So when
autumn comes
and the wind
starts blowing,
the wretched child hears it
and desperately cries,
“Milk! Milk!”

The clear-toned cicada

The snap beetle also
impresses me.
They say the reason it bows
while crawling on the ground
is that the faith of
Buddha
has sprung up in its
insect heart.
Sometimes one suddenly sees the
snap beetle
tapping away
in a dark place
and this
is rather
pleasant.

The fly
should have been included
on my list of hateful things
for such an odious creature
does not belong with ordinary
insects.
It settles on everything
and even alights
on one’s face
with its clammy
feet.

I am sorry
anyone
should have been named
after it.

The tiger-moth
is very pretty
and delightful.
When one sits
close to a lamp
reading a story,
a tiger moth
will often flutter
prettily
in front of one’s book.

The ant
is an ugly insect;
but it is
light on its feet
and I enjoy watching it
as it skims
quickly
over the surface
of the water.

Originally published in the April 2006 issue of The Practically Creative Quarterly, theme: alterations; edited for re-publication

[-photography, poetry-]

by Nancy S.M. Waldman

it is, afterall, all about the sky

Originally uploaded by nuanc.

I took this photo last Sunday as I was pelting through New Brunswick trying to get home as fast as possible. Since I was driving and it was raining, I didn’t take time to compose the shot or focus it or choose it with care. The taking of it was as much about entertaining myself during a long drive alone as it was about trying to capture something of the amazing sky and the New Brunswick landscape.

When I uploaded this, I was immediately struck by two things. The proportion of sky to land and the tiny angled snippet of road in the lower right corner, with the even tinier cars and their miniscule headlights - all lost in the vastness of that sky.

It’s inspired this haiku:

I travel again this weekend.

take care, all

Originally published June 2006 in the Practically Creative blog

[-photography, poetry-]

by Nancy Waldman

Ljubljana arches

Originally uploaded by daerice.

This morning I spent some relaxed time viewing a slideshow of the images that have been put in the Practically Creative pool. The variety, the color, the sense of play and humour, the emotions, the places, the depth, the creativity are inspiring. Viewing these images in thumbnail as they are in the sidebar of this site doesn’t do justice to any of the images. Sometime take some time to delight your eyes and your soul with a slideshow of them.

I chose daerice’s photograph from Ljubljana, Slovenia because my posts have been focusing on the alteration of our world by natural elements. Here is a beautiful part of our world that is showing signs of age. The arches have a rich patina of flaking and peels and cracks and discoloration.

This image and my time[lessness] spent in looking at the others inspired me to bring up this, an excerpt from Winter Hues by 19th century Canadian poet Archibald Lampman,

Life is not all for effort: there are hours,
When fancy breaks from the exacting will,
And rebel thought takes schoolboy’s holiday,
Rejoicing in its idle strength. ’Tis then,
And only at such moments, that we know
The treasure of hours gone—scenes once beheld,
Sweet voices and words bright and beautiful,
Impetuous deeds that woke the God within us,
The loveliness of forms and thoughts and colors,
A moment marked and then as soon forgotten.
These things are ever near us, laid away,
Hidden and waiting the appropriate times,
In the quiet garner-house of memory.
There in the silent unaccounted depth,
Beneath the heated strainage and the rush
That teem the noisy surface of the hours,
All things that ever touched us are stored up,
Growing more mellow like sealed wine with age;
We thought them dead, and they are but asleep.
In moments when the heart is most at rest
And least expectant, from the luminous doors,
And sacred dwellingplace of things unfeared,
They issue forth, and we who never knew
Till then how potent and how real they were,
Take them, and wonder, and so bless the hour.

thanks, daerice, for giving us this view of your world.

See all our poems and poetry articles

Originally published February 2006 in the Practically Creative blog.

[-art, alterations-]

by Nancy S.M. Waldman

scroll/reset

Originally uploaded by Mary Bogdan.

I have boxes on my mind.

This week, I covered a small cardboard box in old photos and gorgeous, vintage gold paper I found in my late father’s art supplies. I lined the inside with beads and feathers. Fun!

That little project got me going on containers. Now I’m working on making a box out of a couple of my paintings that have been in a drawer for a decade or more. In bed last night, just before sleep, I came up with an inspiration for a see-through lid so that the painting-lined interior won’t be hidden. This is fun stuff and all inspired by our recent issue on Alterations.

Our image today is from assemblage artist Mary Bogdan. You can see more of her work here in our on-going look at Alterations.

Mary collects boxes and more boxes to use in her constructs. This piece, entitled “scroll/reset” is 19″w x 14.5″h x 6″d. This is what she has written about it:

Well, Mary, I wish I could touch it, look in that cigar box, ruffle the pages. It’s so *FULL*.

I ran across a fun site yesterday called Box Doodles. Whoa, is this ever right down The PCQ’s alley. On this site, people are encouraged to make quick things out of boxes, but that hardly begins to describe the outcomes. Take a look. You won’t be sorry. The box doodles and Mary’s decidedly more sophisticated box assemblage can’t help but inspire!

Here are photos of the boxes I mentioned above. The first is a craft store box that I covered with vintage paper and old photos and lined with beads and feathers.

This one is literally made from one of my paintings (acrylic) bent into shape and glued. The lid is made from a web of machine-sewn threads (done on tissue paper and later removed) sewn onto more of the painting paper with embellishments of beads and lots more thread in the corners.

thanks, Mary.

See all our Alterations articles
See New Again, an Alterations Challenge
- with more photos of my boxes -
See more of Mary Bogdan’s art: The Tide Series
See all our Collecting articles and surveys

Originally published March 2006 in the Practically Creative blog; edited slightly for re-publication

[-photo essay, art, process-]

Paint is commonly used to alter things, but Cynthia’s sense of color and her freedom about what and how she paints, take it into a new and fantastic realm. Here are some of her thoughts on the transformative power of color:

Painting is about color.
A friend of mine once told me that the easiest way to transform a home’s look is with paint.

Keep everything that you have but just change its color. It’s true. I’ve painted my walls, my chairs, my sofa. I’ve even painted curtains on my windows. In the past I’ve even painted my clothes, my purses, my shoes. I feel that as long as I have a can of paint and a brush, I can transform anything I want into something I want.

Color creates a state of mind.
Color is a state of mind.

Cynthia Korzekwa has an incredibly playful but also interesting and deep creativity. She’s been nice enough to share more of her work with us so click on the links below:
Art begins at home - Cynthia’s thoughts on the domestic side of art and her fantastically inspiring recycled art

Cynthia says of herself:

Visit Cynthia’s sites:
korzekwa | flickr site: los ojos | art for housewives | blog: paros - see more of her painted interiors | blog: ikastikos | email: cynthiak at tin dot it

Originally published in the January 2006 issue of The Practically Creative Quarterly, theme: alterations

[-photo essay-]

by Nancy S.M. Waldman

“Myths are public dreams, dreams are private myths.” ~ Joseph Campbell

If you had your own personal goddess to inspire you, what would she look like? How would she dress? Would she be young? Playful? Beautiful? Old? Wise? Wacky? What symbols or emblems might she carry with her? Or, would she even be a goddess? Might your Muse be a god instead?

Let’s create our own personal mythology, our private dreams, by manifesting our Muses.

Myths are legends that become beliefs. Stories that explain the why of something we wouldn’t otherwise understand. Imagine for a moment what our lives would be like if we had no personal or public stories or beliefs to explain what cannot be proven or easily understood.

Why are we here? What or who made us? How did the Earth come to be here? How did life begin? What happens to us after we die? These are the biggest questions human beings ever ask and our ability to answer these questions by use of science can only take us so far. As individuals we seek something that makes sense to us. A belief we can believe in.

Myths are important. And more important still, for The PCQ and its readers, is the fact that myth and creativity are inextricably intertwined. There could be no myths without creativity. Myths are born out of the imagination. They are spread through the art of storytelling and song. They are maintained through writing. They are illustrated, conveyed, made evident and inspirational through art - sculpture, painting, tapestry, music.

Muse, in the classical sense, refers to goddesses who were water nymphs. They were daughters of Zeus, lord of all Greek gods and Mnemosyne, the goddess of memory. We usually think of The Nine Muses, but predating these nine were an original three. Aiode, muse of song and voice, Melete, muse of practice or occasion and Mneme, the muse of memory.

The more familiar nine Muses, with their associated arts and sciences, and their traditional emblems or poses are :

Euterpe - music
Her emblem is the flute and, as all you musicians out there will understand, she is known as “the Giver of Pleasure.”

Calliope - epic poetry (no image)
The eldest muse is crowned in gold, known as “the Fair-Voiced” and holds a writing tablet.

Clio - history
She is called “the Proclaimer” and is usually seen with a scroll and a chest of books.

Erato - lyric poetry
Erato, “the Lovely” wears a crown of roses and holds a lyre. When was the last time you thought about setting your poetry to music?

Melpomene - tragedy
She is also known as “the Songstress,” but she must be singing the blues with her everpresent tragic mask. Her other emblems are a crown of cypress, a garland, a club and a sword. She is often seen wearing cothurnes, which are boots traditionally worn by tragic actors. Wouldn’t we all be more fabulous and creative if we only had cothurnes to wear?

Polyhymnia - sacred poetry(no image)
She of Many Hymns has no emblem but is always seen with a serious expression or with her face veiled. She’s also associated with geometry, mime, meditation and agriculture.

Terpsichore - dancing
The “Whirler” is usually seen dancing, holding a lyre, and sometimes, a plectrum, which is an instrument used for plucking stringed instruments. By the river god Achelous, Terpsichore bore the Sirens. As a mom, she must have had her hands full.

Thalia - comedy
She wears a crown of ivy and is known as the “Flourisher.” Her emblems are a comic mask and sometimes a crook. Flourish … now there’s a word we should resurrect!

Urania - astronomy
Urania, “the Heavenly,” holds a staff pointing toward a celestial globe and foretells the future in the stars. Perhaps The PCQ should make Urania the official Muse of our next issue, since the theme is Space!

Here’s a soft doll I made as a manifestation of my muse. She’s meant to be elderly and therefore, wise, but still beautiful, vibrant and (very important) eccentric! A real Grande Dame.

It was fun to make and she’s a real presence in my studio. Try making your own.

You’ll want to see our Studio Muse Experiment article by Suze Corte.

Photo credits:
The muse signs at the beginning of the article were taken by Jaqi Pascoe (blue muse), a self-described, “real-life working muse.” You can see more of her photos and art at www.flickr.com/photos/illuminata [note: some adult content] and “luvmusekey” (coke and lego muse) at www.flickr.com/photos/luvmusekey. The photo of three muses was taken by P.J. Beck at the Hearst Castle in California. Her work/play is also at www.flicker.com/photos/freakydeak. Our Roman Muse photos were taken by Bill Jennings. Bill is a Latin teacher in San Francisco. He took these photos while attending a 2004 summer institute for Latin teachers sponsored by the National Endowment for the Humanities. He’s going back to Italy this summer; visit Postcards from Italy for his trip blog.

Research links:
The Muses from Greek Mythology - a website devoted to the Muses with lots of classic paintings (edit: 2007 web address out of date)
What is a myth? an article by Laurie Chandler (edit: 2007 web address out of date)
The Encyclopedia Mythica
The Wikipedia

Here’s a good link:
The Big Myth - a flash animation educational website about Creation Myths from all over the world

Originally published in the Practically Creative blog, February 2005 (slightly edited for re-publication)

[-short short fiction-]

by Indie

The Great War of 2015 left little behind in its wake. No books, no flags, no photographs. Of course there were human survivors - there always are - because even the most thorough of annihilatory practices leaves unexpected havens somewhere, just as a tornado passing through a street levels one house and leaves the next house unscathed. Those crawling out from under the rubble had other concerns than rescuing the trappings of the failed civilization. The occasional preservation of objects reminiscent of the old times, which did however occur, was attributed to a feeling of nostalgia that has always been a part of humanity, the melancholy cousin of the dream for a better day. These objects were placed in a museum in displays without commentary. The photograph of the boy pledging his allegiance was part of a trinity, found in the abandoned ruins of a stone cellar, the owner, perhaps, dust. The photograph had been used as a bookmark in the Bible, the Bible itself wrapped in a flag.

Inde, © 2005 - 2007 all rights reserved

Please see Inde’s other contributions to The PCQ: Hacker Baby, Vicious Pirates

Inde’s blog, The Synchronicity of Indeterminacy, is an experiment in creativity with daily posts of an original one-minute short story inspired by a found photo. All stories are fictional. The idea is based on the Indeterminacy recordings by John Cage, pairing one-minute short stories with random sounds. His daily stories can be found at: indeterminancy.blogspot.com

about the writer:
Inde is an American - originally from Cincinnati, Ohio - living in Europe since the 80’s. He enjoys avant garde, dadaistic, and surrealistic art, literature and music. He has a special love for comedy. Inde holds a masters in psychology and is employed as knowledge engineer, designing natural language dialogue systems. He’s lucky enough to be married to a wonderful muse and has a son 10 years of age. The photograph in this story is of inde as a child.

Published by the permission of the author in the October 2005 issue of The Practically Creative Quarterly, theme: collections