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Shitao

Last seen: 2 hours ago

Tim is a 56 year old guy from Bococmo, Missouri, USA

shitao - View my most interesting photos on Flickriver

  • Sweet Condiment.... on Flickr - Photo Sharing!

    Rated Apr 17 2008 • 1 review • painting, poetry, love, condiments, photos • flickr.com



    Sweet Condiment...


    And she forgot the stars, the moon, the sun,
    And she forgot the blue above the trees,
    And she forgot the dells,where waters run,
    And she forgot the chilly autumn breeze;
    She had no knowledge when day was done,
    And the new morn she saw not: but in peace
    Hung over her sweet Basil evermore .....
    'For cruel 'tis,' said she,
    'To steal my Basil-pot away from me.'

    -- John Keats

    8 views
    Sweet Condiment.... on Flickr - Photo Sharing!

  • Not just tits and ass | Arts | The First Post

    Rated Apr 17 2008 • 1 review • fine arts, painting • thefirstpost.co.uk




    If we wanted to talk posh, we could say these works by painter Martin Maloney provide a thoughtful analysis and reinterpretation of the art-historical genre of the female nude. And, unbelievably, this might possibly be true. Not just fine examples of tits and ass - as preferred by sexist male pigs everywhere - the paintings look like they may have something else going on. Made from old canvases, chopped up and reassembled into new forms, they have a weird psychological mood. They're funny, but also a bit sad and desperate, and definitely inane. But we'll see for ourselves, when the show opens.

    158 views
    Not just tits and ass | Arts | The First Post

  • Enlarged Image

    Rated Apr 17 2008 • 1 review • photography • culturebase.net





    `My photographic works witness and emulate a variety of social phenomena in the course of the modern construction of "socialism with Chinese characteristics". By putting on stories in my photographs, viewers can clearly discern my attitude towards social phenomena in current times. If my works can provide further reflections for other people, I will be even happier.'



    Lather As You Go

    Beneath this slab
    John Brown is stowed.
    He watched the ads
    And not the road.

    --Ogden Nash

    134 views
    Enlarged Image

  • El Anatsui | Nukae-1

    Rated Apr 17 2008 • 1 review • sculpting, arts, fiber arts • si.edu



    This construction is part of the artist's Gawu series that includes a number of "cloths" made with recycled metals--liquor bottle tops, evaporated milk tins and wire--that were gathered in and around Nsukka, Nigeria, where the artist lives and works. While the artist addresses global ideas about the environment, consumerism and the social history and memory of the "stuff" of our lives, his use of recycled materials also recognizes that human creativity and ingenuity are employed in creating something from available resources, including items that are discarded. The artist's "cloth" works also celebrate the woven and stamped textile traditions that remain vibrant in Ghana and Nigeria today.


    In Back of the Real

    railroad yard in San Jose
    I wandered desolate
    in front of a tank factory
    and sat on a bench
    near the switchman's shack.

    A flower lay on the hay on
    the asphalt highway
    --the dread hay flower
    I thought--It had a
    brittle black stem and
    corolla of yellowish dirty
    spikes like Jesus' inchlong
    crown, and a soiled
    dry center cotton tuft
    like a used shaving brush
    that's been lying under
    the garage for a year.

    Yellow, yellow flower, and
    flower of industry,
    tough spiky ugly flower,
    flower nonetheless,
    with the form of the great yellow
    Rose in your brain!
    This is the flower of the World.

    --Allen Ginsberg

    121 views
    El Anatsui | Nukae-1

  • the nonist

    Rated Apr 17 2008 • 2 reviews • photography, boogers, woodblock printing, ukiyo e • thenonist.com




    Big Night On The Town

    drunk on the dark streets of some city,
    it's night, you're lost, where's your
    room?
    you enter a bar to find yourself,
    order scotch and water.
    damned bar's sloppy wet, it soaks
    part of one of your shirt
    sleeves.
    It's a clip joint-the scotch is weak.
    you order a bottle of beer.
    Madame Death walks up to you
    wearing a dress.
    she sits down, you buy her a
    beer, she stinks of swamps, presses
    a leg against you.
    the bar tender sneers.
    you've got him worried, he doesn't
    know if you're a cop, a killer, a
    madman or an
    Idiot.
    you ask for a vodka.
    you pour the vodka into the top of
    the beer bottle.
    It's one a.m. In a dead cow world.
    you ask her how much for head,
    drink everything down, it tastes
    like machine oil.

    you leave Madame Death there,
    you leave the sneering bartender
    there.

    you have remembered where
    your room is.
    the room with the full bottle of
    wine on the dresser.
    the room with the dance of the
    roaches.
    Perfection in the Star Turd
    where love died
    laughing.

    --Charles Bukowski

    18 views
    the nonist

  • Her Warm Woogies, Further Heated Over The Fire.... on...

    Rated Apr 16 2008 • 1 review • painting, photography, espresso, woogies, feminine wiles • flickr.com



    Her Warm Woogies, Heated Over The Fire....

    Succumbing to her charms, I gathered the remaining woogies and we roasted them over the open camp-fire and then proceeded to engorge our plump little wackles until it was all we could do to waddle back to the comfort of our limp pods and collapse and dream of the armies of dofas that we had so gladly nutured, gently strumming our soft under-bellies to the rhythm of the espresso heuristic logic minimizer. What a night!

    3 views
    Her Warm Woogies, Further Heated Over The Fire.... on Flickr - Photo Sharing!

  • Cassini Equinox Mission: Images

    Rated Apr 16 2008 • 1 review • space exploration, photos • nasa.gov



    April 9, 2008

    Saturn dominates this colorful view, taken from a vantage point high above the rings. From here the Cassini spacecraft can see the rings' far side, where the dark shadow of Saturn abruptly terminates their visibility. Mimas (397 kilometers, or 247 miles across) casts its shadow onto the planet's northern latitudes below center. This view looks toward the unilluminated side of the rings from about 27 degrees above the ringplane.

    814 views
    Cassini Equinox Mission: Images

  • FFFFOUND! | x.jpg (JPEG Image, 356x450 pixels)

    Rated Apr 16 2008 • 1 review • fine arts, design, illustration • ffffound.com



    Dublinesque

    Down stucco sidestreets,
    Where light is pewter
    And afternoon mist
    Brings lights on in shops
    Above race-guides and rosaries,
    A funeral passes.

    The hearse is ahead,
    But after there follows
    A troop of streetwalkers
    In wide flowered hats,
    Leg-of-mutton sleeves,
    And ankle-length dresses.

    There is an air of great friendliness,
    As if they were honouring
    One they were fond of;
    Some caper a few steps,
    Skirts held skilfully
    (Someone claps time),

    And of great sadness also.
    As they wend away
    A voice is heard singing
    Of Kitty, or Katy,
    As if the name meant once
    All love, all beauty.

    --Philip Larkin

    12 views
    FFFFOUND! | x.jpg (JPEG Image, 356x450 pixels)

  • FFFFOUND! | attack50.jpg 856×1360 pixels

    Rated Apr 16 2008 • 1 review • photography, art, posters • ffffound.com




    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

    45 views
    FFFFOUND! | attack50.jpg 856×1360 pixels

  • FFFFOUND! | Design*Sponge

    Rated Apr 16 2008 • 1 review • photography, poetry • ffffound.com





    PG Wooster, Just as he Useter

    Bound to your bookseller, leap to your library,
    Deluge your dealer with bakshish and bribary,
    Lean on the counter and never say when,
    Wodehouse and Wooster are with us again.

    Flourish the fish-slice, your buttons unloosing,
    Prepare for the fabulous browsing and sluicing,
    And quote, til you're known as the neighborhood nuisance,
    The gems that illumine the browsance and sluicance.

    Oh, fondle each gem, and after you quote it,
    Kindly inform me just who wrote it.

    Which came first, the egg or the rooster?
    P.G.Wodehouse or Bertram Wooster?
    I know hawk from handsaw, and Finn from Fiji,
    But I can't disentangle Bertram from PG.

    I inquire in the school room, I ask in the road house,
    Did Wodehouse write Wooster, or Wooster Wodehouse?
    Bertram Wodehouse and PG Wooster,
    They are linked in my mind like Simon and Schuster.

    No matter which fumbled in '41,
    Or which the woebegone figure of fun.
    I deduce how the faux pas came about,
    It was clearly Jeeves's afternoon out.

    Now Jeeves is back, and my cheeks are crumply
    From watching him glide through Steeple Bumpleigh.

    --Ogden Nash

    1 view
    FFFFOUND! | Design*Sponge