Shitao/art

Desnudo femenino by Rafael Pellicer

Rafael Pellicer (1906 - 1963), nacido en Madrid en el seno de una familia cordobesa, aún pasa para muchos por ser sobrino político del insigne Julio Romero de Torres, pero fue pintor y grabador reconocido por méritos propios: Como pintor obtiene reconocidos galardones: Segunda y Primera Medalla de Pintura en las respectivas celebraciones de la Exposición Nacional de 1941 y 1945, en 1950 es pensionado en Marruecos por el Gobierno Español, en 1951 obtiene el Primer Premio y Medalla de Honor en la Exposición de Pintores de África, en 1953 obtiene el Primer Premio de Pintura por la Dirección General de Moneda y Timbre, en 1954 gana el Primer Premio en la Exposición de Otoño de Sevilla.



A Study of Reading Habits

When getting my nose in a book
Cured most things short of school,
It was worth ruining my eyes
To know I could still keep cool,
And deal out the old right hook
To dirty dogs twice my size.

Later, with inch-thick specs,
Evil was just my lark:
Me and my coat and fangs
Had ripping times in the dark.
The women I clubbed with sex!
I broke them up like meringues.

Don't read much now: the dude
Who lets the girl down before
The hero arrives, the chap
Who's yellow and keeps the store
Seem far too familiar. Get stewed:
Books are a load of crap.

--Philip Larkin

Purr... Illustrators of children's books brag about their cats

Saginaw Art Museum is proud to present Purr...Illustrators of children's books brag about their cats. The show is comprised of 43 works, in various media, by contemporary children's book illustrators. Cat-lovers and art lovers alike will enjoy this impressive array of works depicting the many facets of those mischevious, amusing, and lovable felines.

You Can Be A Republican, I'm A Genocrat

Oh, "rorty" was a mid-Victorian word
Which meant "fine, splendid, jolly,"
And often to me it has reoccurred
In moments melancholy.
For instance, children, I think it rorty
To be with people over forty.

I can't say which, come eventide,
More tedious I find;
Competing with the juvenile stride,
Or meeting the juvenile mind.
So I think it rorty, yes, and nifty,
To be with people over fifty.

The pidgin talk the youthful use
Bypasses conversation.
I can't believe the code they choose
Is a means of communication.
Oh to be with people over sixty
Despite their tendency to prolixty!

The hours a working parent keeps
Mean less than Latin to them,
Wherefore they disappear in jeeps
Till three and four A.M.
Oh, to be with people you pour a cup for
Instead of people you have to wait up for!

I've tried to read young mumbling lips
Till I've developed a slant-eye,
And my hearing fails at the constant wails
Of, If I can't, why can't I?
Oh, to be beside a septuagenarian,
Silent upon a peak in Darien!

They don't know Hagen from Bobby Jones,
They never heard of Al Smith,
Even Red Grange is beyond their range,
And Dempsey is a myth.
Oh golly, to gabble upon the shoulder
Of someone my own age, or even older!

I'm tired of defining hadn't oughts.
To opposition mulish,
The thoughts of youth are long long thoughts,
And Jingo! Aren't they foolish!
All which is why, in case you've wondered
I'd like a companion aged one hundred.

--Ogden Nash

As The Sparrow

To give life you must take life,
and as our grief falls flat and hollow
upon the billion-blooded sea
I pass upon serious inward-breaking shoals rimmed
with white-legged, white-bellied rotting creatures
lengthily dead and rioting against surrounding scenes.
Dear child, I only did to you what the sparrow
did to you; I am old when it is fashionable to be
young; I cry when it is fashionable to laugh.
I hated you when it would have taken less courage
to love.

--Charles Bukowski