Weed

Weed
Originally uploaded by Artzy1

This might be considered a weed, a thistle or a thorn, but having wondered through many a meadow as a youth, I always found them fascinating and they shall always remind me of summers of fun many years ago. My congratulations to Artzy1 for a marvelous composition of a purple weed that fills the frame with beautiful color and design.
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Weed
A Wyoming weed!

Uploaded by Artzy1 on 12 Sep 09, 4.34PM PST.

Homeless in Beijing subway

Homeless in Beijing subway
Originally uploaded by milkanen

Yes, it appears that China has a terrible "homeless" problem. What is this world coming too? One might compare this image with photos of the homeless in USA subways and other areas. I think the entire issue boils down to "freedom to sleep where one can find a place" and there are most likely laws against sleeping in subways that are enforced in China.

One can look at this issue in several ways; either a society has regulations about where people can congregate and lay around in public places and spaces, or a society has no restrictions, thus letting whomever wants to camp out in public places, litter, urinate and deficate throughout the area, making the area unhealthy, unsafe and a site that shows there are no provisions made for the homeless.

Part of this can simply be defined by "character." To summarize, Beijing officials do not want "characters" hangin' out in the public subways. I get the picture clearly.

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THANKS TO MILKANEN FOR A GREAT PHOTO

Homeless in Beijing subway
I saw this young buddy in a subway tunnel in Beijing under the Tiananmen square.

Uploaded by milkanen on 28 Oct 07, 11.46AM PST.

Huffstutter's original 1960 photo of Venice West Cafe, Calif

Huffstutter's original 1960 photo of Venice West Cafe, Calif
Originally uploaded by roberthuffstutter

SOME THOUGHTS ABOUT THE VENICE BEACH OF 50 YEARS AGO

Let me simply say that when I got off the bus and walked down to Venice West more than 50 years ago, it was a different scene. I will never forget the thrill of smelling the variety of different foods drifting out of the small delis and cafes.

I was fascinated by the elderly, bundled up on the benchs, speaking the language of Eastern Europe. I was fascinated by the women and men in their mid-20s who smiled at me as though they had secrets I knew nothing about but would discover if I remained. They were artists, lovers, musicians, poets, writers, employees of the City, unemployed men and women, fry-cooks, donut bakers, street sweepers, alcoholics who had been hiding out since the Korean War, people with clothing that looked like it was from the 40s, youth like myself who had come to Venice to be cool and get drunk and party all night at the St Marks Hotel and then write poetry about being beat and send post cards back to our friends and tell them to come out and get drunk with us, sun and fun lovers, chicks with bodies that slipped out of the covers of the latest Playboy, guys showing off their abs at Muscle Beach, old people who smiled at everyone and called everyone by name.

That was the Venice I arrived in or at fifty years ago--before they tore the cool buildings down, before they poured concrete where bungalows had been, International VIllage with all the cool but closed restauraunts. Oh, the liquor stores, there were lots of liquor stores and they were always running out of muscatel and paper bags. But that is all history now, right?

Right, it is gone now. And nobody had a lot of time back then for painting names on stuff because people were writing poetry and trying to write the great American novel all over again. There were lots of writers who were writers and lots of people who talked about writing. And there was the old Venice West Cafe where there were really poetry readings by candlelight every night that was so cool we could hardly wait to read our own stuff. The old chairs and tables, the espresso machine, that strong, magic smell of espresso that I have never come across again in fifty years.

Yes, that was Venice West. I lived on Paloma Street and I am glad I caught a corner of the beat scene before it was gone forever.

By Robert L. Huffstutter

There are times when my memory fails me when it comes to the name of the hotel mentioned, but I do believe it was the St. Marks Hotel. It was the old hotel in the south end of Venice.
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Huffstutter's original 1960 photo of Venice West Cafe, Calif
Uploaded by roberthuffstutter on 11 Mar 09, 8.02AM PST.

statueatgraveyard

statueatgraveyard
Originally uploaded by Daan Verhoeven

This contemplative and angelic pose speaks volumes for humanity. Is life a gameboard and if it is, who is moving the game pieces and why? No, I am not suggesting a new religion or sect, just more contemplation on the questions that have beseiged and puzzled us since the dawning of civilization. But life is too short anyway, and by the time we think we might have the answer, or acquired the wisdom to answer such abstract questions, life is over. What are we to do then, live for the moment? Shall we then ride the merry-go-round until the caliope ends, knowing it is our time to get off though there are others still whirling about, those who have not heard the music end?
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statueatgraveyard
daanverhoeven.blogspot.com/2010/10/8-that-is-10.html

Uploaded by Daan Verhoeven on 15 Oct 10, 10.04AM PST.

P1000675_cr_adj3

P1000675_cr_adj3
Originally uploaded by walk magazine

TO BE ABLE TO SHOOT PHOTOGRAPHS LIKE THIS WOULD BE MY DREAM COME TRUE--WELL, AT LEAST ONE OF THEM...
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P1000675_cr_adj3
entry to www.walkmag.co.uk autumn photography competition

Uploaded by walk magazine on 14 Oct

100_4625

100_4625
Originally uploaded by walk magazine

A MOST FANTASTIC WORK OF ART, TAKEN BY THE PHOTOGRAPHERS OF WALK MAGAZINE OUT OF THE THE U.K. Check out the photostream with links below.
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Entry to our autumn photography competition www.walkmag.co.uk

Uploaded by walk magazine on 13 Sep 10,

Cathedral of Saint Basil, Moscow - Собор Василия Блаженного, Москва

Cathedral of Saint Basil, Moscow - Собор Василия Блаженного, Москва
Originally uploaded by Sir Francis Canker Jones

BREATHTAKINGLY BEAUTIFUL, one of the best photographs I have viewed of this most unique cathederal. When I look at this symbol of Christianity in nation where religion was severly regulated by the State, I am spiritually lifted with the knowledge that services are once again held within this icon of Orthodox Christianity. My gratitude to Sir Francis Canker Jones for permission to publish this photograph in my online public blog.

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Cathedral of Saint Basil, Moscow - Собор Василия Блаженного, Москва
67.83@3663

Uploaded by Sir Francis Canker Jones on 1 Dec 07, 7.42AM PST

SUMMER IS OVER BUT THE MEMORY REMAINS

SUMMER FUN 2010 014
Originally uploaded by roberthuffstutter

THROUGHOUT THE SUMMER, THIS HUMMINGBIRD AND THREE OTHERS CALLED THIS THEIR OWN, MUCH TO MY WIFE'S DELIGHT, AND MINE TOO
Upon viewing this most defining photograph of the sea, I had to ask myself why I could not enjoy such a view forever. This is truly a masterpiece and captures the very sense of the sea as it comes ashore. Congratulations to the photographer, Boyd Miller

PRESIDENT OBAMA'S VISIT TO TROOP IN AFGHANISTAN

PRESIDENT OBAMA
Originally uploaded by roberthuffstutter

CONGRATULATIONS ARE DUE PRESIDENT OBAMA FOR VISITING THE TROOPS IN AFGHANISTAN RECENTLY

Cngratulations are due the President for his recent visit with American troops stationed in Afghanistan. One might wonder what he is thinking about the leader of North Korea's mention of nuclear power being used in future attacks. Attacks against whom? Certainly, President Obama has considered all of the situations as he has studied the mind of the leader of North Korea.

Personally, I feel confident that our President will handle whatever situation that might arise with as much wisdom as any of the past Presidents might have. That our President, as the Commander-in-Chief, will fly near enemy territories to visit our troops assures me that he has no fear of the enemies of democracy.

Kim Jong's statement shocked the hell out of me. I am wondering if the Secretary of State and the soon-to-duck-out Secretary of Defense felt a slight shiver from the tips of their toes to the tops of their heads.

Not certain about President Obama's response because I have been down-sizing my political propaganda, I am hesitant to make any statement regarding anything he might have said about the North Korean leader's threat of a terminal nature. However, the President's recent trip to Afghanistan proved he is no coward when it comes to flying into enemy territory.

I believe President Obama's visit to the troops raised his popularity to new heights. His visit raised my respect for him considerably. I am beginning to sense a real and genuine anger in his persona for all of America's enemies. They are costing innocent lives of civilians; they are killing Americans who are on missions of maintaining a lasting peace for the citizens of these nations like Afghanistan and Iraq.

No, I do not believe the Presidential flight to Afghanistan was one of a political nature--it was a flight that sent a message to the world that our President, our Commander-in-Chief, is not fearful of the enemy and will go to the front to command and lead. My congratulations to President Obama.

I would highly recommend that Kim, the leader of a nation where children disappear whenever they wander close to a butcher shop, get a copy of the Jane's Fighting Ships and Aircraft books and study them. He might also realize that his fan club is hardly big enough to fill up any Kozy Inn and that his absence from the world stage would not cause a shortage of crying towels anywhere on earth, especially in any area where his nuclear bad breath might infect.

The leader of North Korea needs to understand that, as I understand our defense policy, fingers are only inches away from red buttons that, if and when they are pushed, would reduce the threat of North Korea starting a nuclear war to zero in a "New York minute."

There would be no more nuclear menace north of the 38th parallel, thus proving that General Douglas MacArthur's ideas about unification of the entire country would have been advice that should have been heeded

Robert L. Huffstutter

Card Samples...

Card Samples...
Originally uploaded by Amg-Arts

Cool. You could have an entire section of a card shop appointed with such works to inspire sales of the featured card. Watch the sales soar on the featured work. Anytime you take the time to promote an item in such a way as you have displayed by posting this sophisticated work, you will profit immensely. Of course, location is important, but it does not really matter about the economics of an area, when it comes to spending on relatives (close relatives) money is no object. At least to a point.
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Card Samples...

Uploaded by Amg-Arts on 10 Nov 10, 5.22AM PST.

MY STUDIO WITH DOGS, A PHOTO BY R.L.HUFFSTUTTER

MY STUDIO WITH DOGS, A PHOTO BY R.L.HUFFSTUTTER
Originally uploaded by roberthuffstutter

A SHORT ESSAY ABOUT MY DOGS AND THE OLD CABIN IN THE WOODS

When I feel like it is time to get out of my home for awhile, I either head west to California or some other area, especially where the weather is warmer. However, at this point in time, I have some new responsibilities and cannot go too far, so I head for my cabin in the woods. It belongs to a good friend, but in some respects, it is mine because he told me he will leave it to me in his will.

There are many times when I take my dogs. We are there within twenty minutes. I do my large oils here, sometimes outdoors when the weather is right. The light is always right outdoors, cloudy or bright. Just painting out of doors mean much. My dogs love the smell of linseed oil, so I have to keep them in a nearby pen while I am painting oils, inside or out.

There's a fireplace in the old, secluded cabin and it knows fine fires. The dogs enjoy laying by the hearth and watching my every move. Why do dogs do that? Sometimes, though, I watch them; one is always awake, though he pretends to be sleeping. We watch the fire togeher and enjoy the same warmth. I think they enjoy the sight of the flames too.

Many thoughts run through my mind as I watch my dogs. I wonder if someday we will talk on a level plane where they will tell me what they liked about me and remind me about the days when I hardly paid them any mind at all. I hope those days are few. I enjoy watching my dogs wagging their tales as the fire settles down and I finally retire, sometimes right on the floor with them.

I love my dogs and I think they love me.

By Robert L. Huffstutter
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Tags for this photograph by R.L. Huffstutter:

FREE-ART PUBLIC-DOMAIN OLD-DOGS OLD-MEN CANTANKEROUS GRIPPERS WHINERS PHOTOSTREAM TICKED WHO-CARES? CABIN-IN-THE-WOODS LINSEED-OIL DOGS-BY-HEARTH MY-DOGS STUDIO-IN-WOODS WILLS AUTUMN-MASTERPIECE BEST-PHOTOS SERENITY SLEEPING-WITH-DOGS

Uploaded by roberthuffstutter on 10 Dec 10, 6.22PM PST

4th Ave. Army Navy

4th Ave. Army Navy
Originally uploaded by jimsawthat

IF THIS DOES NOT BRING BACK SOME MEMORIES IN THOSE OF US BORN IN THE 30S AND 40S, WHAT WILL? WHAT A GREAT FIND. THANKS TO JIM SAW THAT...
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4th Ave. Army Navy
With the military being the largest employer in Alaska there is no storage of army-Navy surplus. Note the thermometer.

Uploaded by jimsawthat on 19 Oct 10, 9.35AM PST.

Junk car #1

Junk car #1
Originally uploaded by trbpix

There should be a law to protect these endangered species. This is a crying shame. Perhaps, hopefully, someone rescued and restored this classic.

When I look at photos of autos like this I can almost hear them singing "God Bless America."
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Junk car #1
Car in a back-country junkyard near Trumansburg, New York

Uploaded by trbpix on 21 Jul 06, 1.30PM PST.

Flickr

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

Desert house

Desert house
Originally uploaded by franvisions

Let me tell you the story behind this one. I noticed you took it back in March of 2008. To be quite honest, I am surprised it was still standing. But if you took the photo, you should know.

There's a long story that goes along with this old home. Before I give away too many details, I need to know if you happened to see anyone with metal detectors in the area. Did you see any fresh holes where people had been digging.

If you saw signs of digging, etc, they were probably digging a drain for the water that floods the road in heavy rains.

If you still have the details on this location, I might suggest that you go there ASAP with your metal detectors. According to the old legend, there was a shipment of gold that was headed for the mint. The old stage road that is now the closest State highway, was once called the Federal Road because it led directly to the mint.

Anyway, the old James gang, not the one in Missouri, but the cousin of the notorious Frank James, rented a general store not too far from here and knew the schedule of the loads, etc. Anyway, as the story goes, he had made arrangements with the State militia who were supposed to be escorting the load (four wagons full of gold nuggets and ore).

Do you still have your map?

Desert house
I've always wondered what the stories behind these abandoned houses are

Uploaded by franvisions on 10 Jul 08, 10.47AM PST.



If you will kindly send me the map, I will go check on this and let you know if what I suspect might be true. There is no need for you all to go on what would most likely be a wild goose chase.

Just draw me a map ASAP on a sheet of paper and send it FLICKER E MAIL. Yes, I am interested in this and I just might be able to fill you in on the stories--IF YOU SEND ME THE MAP A-S-A-P

Rest assured, that I will contact you if I find anything of interest or any of the gold that could have been buried in or around the area.

THE ART ...

THE ART ...
Originally uploaded by mrbill78636

THE ART ...
... of Robert Huffstutter

I have been intrigued with Robert's art for some time. I think he works mostly in colored pencil, but I could be wrong. It doesn't matter, what he basically works in is color on paper and his brain is too busy feeling the need to implant images and information on the paper, he is totally unconcerned with style and technique.

Robert is a pure natural painter. He's not a primitive as we defined that school of art from a long time ago. I would call Robert a naturalist, because he stays natural to not only his subject matter, but to himself. His is the kind of art that not only tells the message he is sending, but is magically therapeutic for him as well.

I know vocabulary is changed with time. My father would have studied about dementia praecox (sp), while I was told this title was obsolete and people could be paranoid or perhaps manic-depressive, but that dementia praecox no longer had meaning. Nowever Senile dementia is still a good descriptor.

Again, watch out for me, because I got my basic education over sixty years ago. Artistically children were grouped into two categories, visual and haptic. Visual people generally attempt to draw things as they visualize them, while haptic children tend to draw things as they FEEL them.

Robert is not totally haptic, because his layouts are all just the way you would see the subject matter, but on the other hand Robert strongly draws what he feels as well.

Here's an example of what a visual-haptic person can do. I watched this happen over the years with adults, trained and untrained, who were thus gifted.

Teaching adults for me was almost entirely for the night hours, so going out to sketch was impossible. I furnished a target image with a slide and projector. Most of the pictures I took of subject matter introduced was from either a kneeling or standing position and looking straight on at the subject. That usually placed the horizon line low or midway in the center of interest.

The haptic person, might be expected to do anything under the sun, whereas the visual person would usually do the expected layout and the teacher needed only to show them how to set up and correct the perspective and how to measure distances and comparisons and with a lot of practice a student could soon be drawing very realistic things.

Now, comes along a visual/haptic person and they do a very visual house the only thing is they draw the house they are looking straight into as if they were on the second floor of a house across the street and hence are not looking AT the house but DOWN ONTO the house. And, of course I stood there appalled. I mulled over the phenomenon over many years and never ever tried to tell the person not to do that.

What they were doing was a perspective project, so complicated, had I required a first semester drawing class to do it would have caused them to walk out on me. That kind of ability is one of the main things about a visual/haptic person.

I learned that as you begin to draw, you start work on the right side of your mind, very methodically doing everything very meticulously and thought-out. Then somewhere along the line, you began to paint automatically and become consciously unaware of the forces working within your mind. Here is where the miracles come from. Sometimes a sentenced ending in a preposition imparts great wisdom. Koff koff,

That stage is where the haptic person is all the time. They are working on the opposite side of their brains. Everything is emotional and everything is just as they want it to be. They have already arrived at style and technique. They are already purely original, as purely as an artist can be.

Visual/haptics, or what I call naturalists (a bad title because it sounds like they're collecting butterflies or bugs). Haptics and visual/haptics both resist training and the reason is they are doing what they came to do. They are not trying to develop a style, a technique or any of the words we use to describe painting and painters. They have arrived and just want to be free to work. They begin every picture on the opposite side of their brain and end it the same way. Actually, I think the visual/haptic has no dividing line and simply lives in a perfect blend of the two conditions or perhaps, they automatically flip back and forth from one brain hemisphere to the other.

I've told this badly, but I hope I've given you a new understanding into the kinds of artists we have amongst us.

Vaya con Dios, Roberto....

... as I meander through Robert's photostream, I always have the urge to CHANGE something, not improve and not correct, simply change it, so that now you have TWO to look at from time to time. Robert welcomes this kind of collaboration. I looked at his view (image on the left) of an LA street from a hotel lobby and thought about it with a GLOW all around the edges (image in the middle), then I wondered what if the glow "whispered" instead of spoke out loud (image on the right).

Here's a link to Robert/s photostream ...

www.flickr.com/photos/29528454@N04/

VIEW OF GREAT SW FROM TRAIN HEADED WEST

VIEW OF GREAT SW FROM TRAIN HEADED WEST
Originally uploaded by roberthuffstutter

IMPROMTEAU POEM ABOUT A TRAIN HEADING WEST:

This a view I never tire of seeing. Time and again, I have passed through this Divine land on my way to the golden shores, leaving the season behind, heading west toward the always golden shores where flowers never froze, where the young women all had perfect tans to show, west where there was always markets open all night long, where on a quiet night one could smell the orange blossoms drifting in from the orange groves of San Bernadino, headed west where downtown Los Angeles meant meeting new and different people, finding another cool place to rent for a month or two, or maybe find a place to stay free, someplace near the beach, yes where one could wake and see a gull scratching about for crumbs dropped from a late dinner.

Yes, a view headed through the desert toward hope, but that was then, fifty years ago.

Do young people still ride the trains and enjoy the anticipation of the life ahead, the life that at the moment seems never-ending. When one is eighteen, the end of life is only a story in a book, a scene from a war movie, an episode on TV where madmen went on a rampage. The train, seen from the heights of who moves these trains must know that time will someday change the thoughts swirling about in these youthful minds. Maybe, someday, the elements will defeat the end and life will go on without a wrinkle or a tear.

By Robert L. Huffstutter
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VIEW OF GREAT SW FROM TRAIN HEADED WEST
TAGS FOR THIS PHOTO: FREE-ART PUBLIC-DOMAIN POETRY-BY-R.L.HUFFSTUTTER HUFFSTUTTER CALIFORNIA-TRAIN-HEADING-WEST 50-YEARS-AGO SW-DESERT PHOTO-BY-RLH TRAIN-WINDOW WEST-COAST LIFE-ETERNAL GAME-BOARD GAME-OF-LIFE LOVING-LIFE PACIFIC-SHORES PERFECT-TAN MEETING-PEOPLE NIGHTS-BY-THE-BEACH LATE-NIGHT-DINNERS BEACHFRONT-FUN CALIFORNIA-DREAMING HOTEL-CALIFORNIA-RESERVATIONS CALIFORNIA-WINE-AND-TIME YOUTHFUL-FANCY ALWAYS-SMILING LIFE-IS-FUN LET'S-DO-IT-ONCE-MORE SECOND-TIME-AROUND

Uploaded by roberthuffstutter on 3 Dec 10, 10.16AM PST.

Compose your blog entry
Title:
Your Post: IMPROMTEAU POEM ABOUT A TRAIN HEADING WEST:

This a view I never tire of seeing. Time and again, I have passed through this Divine land on my way to the golden shores, leaving the season behind, heading west toward the always golden shores where flowers never froze, where the young women all had perfect tans to show, west where there was always markets open all night long, where on a quiet night one could smell the orange blossoms drifting in from the orange groves of San Bernadino, headed west where downtown Los Angeles meant meeting new and different people, finding another cool place to rent for a month or two, or maybe find a place to stay free, someplace near the beach, yes where one could wake and see a gull scratching about for crumbs dropped from a late dinner.

Yes, a view headed through the desert toward hope, but that was then, fifty years ago.

Do young people still ride the trains and enjoy the anticipation of the life ahead, the life that at the moment seems never-ending. When one is eighteen, the end of life is only a story in a book, a scene from a war movie, an episode on TV where madmen went on a rampage. The train, seen from the heights of who moves these trains must know that time will someday change the thoughts swirling about in these youthful minds. Maybe, someday, the elements will defeat the end and life will go on without a wrinkle or a tear.

By Robert L. Huffstutter



Or, choose a different weblog.

[335-365] Keeping me awake, It's been like this now for days

[335-365] Keeping me awake, It's been like this now for days
Originally uploaded by Beatriz AG

THE VISUAL IMAGES IN HER POEM WILL KEEP ONE AWAKE
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[335-365] Keeping me awake, It's been like this now for days
You me at Six - Always attract

if it hurts this much,
then it much be love,
and its a lottery,
i can't wait to draw your name.
oh i'm trying to get to you,
but time isn't on my side,
the truths the worst i could do,
and i guess that i have lied.

keeping me awake,
it's been like this now for days,
my heart is out at sea,
my head all over the place,
i'm loosing sence of time,
and everything tastes the same,
i'll be home in a day,
i fear thats a month to late.

that night i slept,
on your side of the bed so,
it was ready when you got home,
we're like noughts and crosses in that
opposites always attract.

you've taken me to the top,
and let me fall back south
you've had me at the top of the pile,
and then had me kissing the ground
we've heard and seen it all,
no ones talked us out,
the problems that have come
haven't yet torn us down.

Am I keeping you awake, if i am then just say,
you can make your own decisions; you can make your own mistakes,
i'll live and let die all the promises you made,
but if you lie another time, it'll be a lie thats to late.

You always have your way,
for now it to soon for you to say,
we will be always always.

Muchísimas gracias a Leja ! por su cariñoso testimonio! :)


[ . 335 - 365 . ]

Uploaded by Beatriz AG on 1 Dec 10, 8.27AM PST.