Featured Artist: The Drums

I think I'm in love. And I blame Jason

Prometheus Bound

Prometheus, opening


Prometheus, bound


Hermes


Force & Violence


Hephestus



Oceanic Chorus


Set Design









Colour Plates

No Where Warm...

I've gotten so bad at this I can't quite believe it.
Actually, I can. I've been going a little mad with the amount of things
I need to do. And madder still with the ferocious nonchalance with which
I manage to avoid doing any of it.Example, the Prague Quadrennial approaches, and digital samples are due in one week exactly and guess who is still assembling the portfolio.

The semester is three weeks from finished, and yet we have two surprise productions
we have to mount. This school is bats in itself. I found out tonight, by pure unadulterated chance, that perhaps once again the higher ups are not communicating at their most effective. It seems that the possibility of my teaching a rendering class has been misread as actually being fact. Never mind that I've just accepted a position in New York. Which I made my advisor very much aware of. I am expecting a thorough tongue lashing from the department head in the morning (afternoon rather) during which I intend to stare out the window and hum to myself inside my head.

I'm wondering what life is like in Astoria, as that is round about where my budget seems to be pointing me.

Wash Gently in Warm Water

Manhattan Bound

As of January I will call New York home.

Smile

funny cause it's true.

from FagCity

London

La vieille ville ou j'ai grandi.



I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every Man,
In every Infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear.

How the Chimney-sweeper's cry
Every black'ning Church appalls;
And the hapless Soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls.

But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot's curse
Blasts the new born Infant's tear
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.

-William Blake