Preparing for the New Year

Posted by Dread, who is busy brainstorming a new method and substance of expression, while still hoping and praying for the best in 2009.

Yada Yada Yada!

..and all that stuff. Some years I get into it and some years I don't. There's a bit of frustration this year... Okay; a lot. Anyway, I hope yours is great. I'll be back about the time you start next year's hangovers. Until then; stay safe!

Posted by Dread without any real enthusiasm.

Bar Window Art, Thrice Removed

Art recalled and documented can become art itself. Somewhere over my rambling readings, I came across the quote below, which I consider to be a quality sample of the art of prose. I think once you have read it you will agree that it is art, recalling art. Here is the quote:

"I was once sitting at a table in a bar when a young woman came up to the bar window, lifted her shirt and pressed her breasts against the window. When she left, there were perfect imprints of her breasts on the dusty glass. I didn't think of it as art at the time. If only I had known."

I failed to document where I clipped the quote, and can't for the life of me even remember when I collected it. But I found it interesting, moving, and thought provoking. It occurred to me that the little clip was art itself, and so the temporal art created by the young lady at the window, moved to a remaining print on the window and a lingering imprint on the writer's mind. Although it can be argued that the act of the imprint and the imprint itself were all one unit of art, does it really matter? Art is in the mind of the beholder.

I suppose that with my posting of the picture of illustration and the quote together here, the art the young lady created, and then was reminisced to prose, is in some way taking on it's third mutation. Yet, in some way, the original art still remains a pure statement of itself.

Some stories loose something in each additional telling while others gain. They evlove through adoption and added perspective. The south is full of art like that; especially here beneath the Carolina moon.

Posted by Dread who thinks it is neat art, when stories like this come full circle, but the original artists keep their secrets.

Election Circumspection

The, so called, election left me feeling like I had been hit by a beer truck. But, I'm back by unpopular demand. Tomorrow I will begin cleaning up this place, and putting up posts that are relevant to the roots and purpose of this blog. Eventually, all the political fodder from the past year will be moved to a political blog site I am preparing. But, Beneath the Carolina Moon will return to all things Southern and all things Carolinian. There's a quirky, eccentric side of the Carolinas, and most likely that will overtone this blog. After all, quirky, eccentric, and enigmatic are all good qualities when done with style and grace.

There is a time and place for everything, and this is quiet a place: here beneath the Carolina moon!

Posted by Dread who feels better already.