Our sidewalk rabbit – foto Smith
First a word from our sponsor — my ego . . . I have from 1 to 5 pieces in a show this Friday:
Gallery Wolfy Part II – 2676 West 14th St.
“Twenty years ago or so” or “Art almost old enough to drink”
May 11th until June 2nd, 2012
Work by Doug Utter, Kirk Magnus, Jeff Chiplis, Mike Pare, Angelica Pozo and more
The show accepted only art 20 years or older. I offered one piece from 1969, three from 1977, and one from 1987. I’ll find out Friday night what he chose to hang.
And now back to our irregularly scheduled daily data.
I’m standing here at our 3rd floor window watching the birds interact over the seed piles we put out. Some birds share while others try to chase the rest away so they can have it all even though there’s more than enough to go around. I’ve seen this same some-sharing and some-unsharing behavior in cats and dogs and chickens and pigs and ducks and geese and rabbits as well (but not cows or sheep).
I’m thinking if birds exhibit greed and bad manners, what chance do humans have of ever getting along since selfishness and such seem hardwired in even birds and animals.
I decided that hope lies in the fact that humans can rise above their hard-wired wretchedness and learn to share by having higher brain function overrule lower brain fiction.
Of course when I watch the daily antics of politicians, CEOs, police, bankers, priests, paparazzi, the Supreme Court, the religious right and most of the 1%, I get somewhat discouraged; but I also see daily miracles of sharing and caring, especially in children and activists, poets and artists, hippies and neo-hippies and the occasional new-ager.
I also find encouragement in the rising number of vegetarians who refuse to eat living flesh — a battle I am still fighting . . . my wife has gone veggie so I eat no meat at home, but do order it when we occasionally dine out.
We’re still in the dark, a long way from dawn, but I swear there’s a faint gleam of light hinting just over the horizon.
As for the politicians, CEOs, police, bankers, priests, paparazzi, and most of the 1%, I think they’d make a fine fertilizer to help us grow a better fairer society. (My higher brain says pay no attention to this snide aside from my angry lower brain.)
The Corporate Mean
The promised land of milk and honey
Hides the men of scars and shame
Who came they say to slay their dragon
Yet slayed to stay the same
Sleep creeps like Jason’s wool
Down shelf enchanted eyes
Devolved from Mammon’s muse
These self selected wise
Inside their phantom rooms
In fairy tale castles
Devoid of viable dooms
As integrated assholes
They sway
Illusion’s lies
— Smith, 1974
A cockatiel named Pikachu on my knee – foto Smith
