laundry basket



Looming on the horizon, empty.


There's something about this that suggests Wyeth or Hopper to me: all that allusive, vaguely menacing space, perhaps? Empty laundry baskets as gaping maws that will be filled (assuming we persist in the folly of thinking it proper to wear clothes)? Maybe it's just that Melvillian word "looming" in your caption.

Sorry. I think about laundry rooms' possible greater significances, sometimes. Pay me no mind.

in reference to the above comment, what this makes me think of is that none of my laundry baskets are empty. There are clothes that need folding. An empty laundry basket is to be escaped with grandson's christmas toys pilled high.

I had a frenzy of creativity yesterday which should shortly show up on my blog - still no water colors but I did finish an 18 x 24 (I think) acrylic (which will also show up within the next few days as soon as I get the baby's head to look less like a grapefruit...okay, new subject matter, still was a good first swipe).

Hadn't thought of the basket as maw-like, though the clean clothing washes over us in waves from the end of the bed - oceanic yes, and Melvillean in that I am Bartleby. Fold things? "I would prefer not to."

Tammy, I look forward to seeing the new work.



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beside myself:

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