concretekiss

Summer involves so much leg shaving
O my American problems

If one were fully dominated by only one side of his brain, he would have difficulty walking, or one leg and arm would have to drag the dead side around. Though we prefer one hand to the other, the less-dominant one must plod along in its rudimentary fashion to keep up. The simpler, gawky, attention deficient side of himself.
I read long ago that our brains cycle through hemispheres every couple of hours, and can be tricked to shift focus. Like when you notice your handwriting is suddenly getting sloppy, yet your hand is not tired, it can mean you have switched to the other side of your brain, idling. I found that I could reverse the change by holding one side of my nose and breathing through the other.
Imagine using nasal blockage to aid certain emotional functions or hone mental focus.
If the right brain is for creativity, art, emotion, music and intuition, you could plug your right nostril before going to the museum and concerts, painting a picture, or writing a poem for optimal perception and enjoyment? As well, if the left brain controls analytic thought, logic, science and math, a marshmallow in the left nostril might help when sitting down to balance a checkbook, refinance a car, study for a physics exam.
Or ultimately, I am an over-romanticizer.

Even the most adept side of my body cannot keep up with my brain, here lately. Lovers, I have missed you, but am often too exhausted to post, and don't know where to begin.

By day I am juggling two part time jobs, framing artwork and minding the flower shop.
Latenight I am folding horses and butterflies, sleeping with books, I kick them out of my bed dreaming, and wake by their thumps to the floor. Shifting more creative focus to speaking in colors and shapes, I've ignored poetry in words for almost a year now, and lately, as you may have noticed, have been fascinated with the female form in art/illustration. Undeniably, .

I show you....

tina berning

oksana badrak

raffaella brizuela sigurdardottir

marcos chin

   
julie heffernan

liza corbett

chris buzelli

To break my spell, I want to depict a modern city in ruins next, culling ideas from D's post about daydreaming habits, photos from abandonedplaces, remembering how voracious the flora was in the Pacific Northwest. I will give it a lone barn owl, maybe.

Looking for examples of lost cities, I learned that beginning around 1923, a 5ft, 100 lb. man, named Ed Leedskalnin worked alone by lantern light after dark for 28 years, building a monument to a woman who left him at the altar. Constructed from limestone blocks, some weighing over 13 tons. He called it the Coral Castle.

I love the resolution in his jaw.

Even Einstein was unable to understand just how Mr. Leedskalnin moved and carved the great stones, as small as he stood, supposedly alone, and with only a few primitive tools. He fashioned a sundial, the nine planets on pillars, a colossal throne, a 9 ton door that could be turned open with the push of a finger.
Interesting to me, there is little to be said regarding the girl for whom the castle was built, Agnes Scuffs, who never once came to see. Scientists and engineers preferred to marvel Ed's secret levitation abilities, over the weight of Agnes' heart.