I remember the day one of my English professors — a very distinguished Brit — told us about an article he’d read in a magazine by a poet who claimed to have seen The Devil in her backyard and it had a long, swishing tail. This picture reminds me a bit of that — and I conjure the same sort of thing in my little mind.
i never saw the devil but i did see a lion crossing the street just down from my house, come out of the hills, and his long twitchy tail was as long as his entire tawny body. He stopped in the middle of the street and looked toward me and then continued along. Meanwhile, I felt a fear a million years old course through me, deeper and more thrilling than any fear I’d known before.
My favorite single thing about this piece is how pathetic and malnourished the tiger looks.
He’s got that bad dog just caught doing bad things look on his face.
It’s a pleading look. It’s a I’m not guilty even though I’m guilty look.
It’s a don’t roll up the paper and beat me look.
(Actually, the way his ears are flattened against his head, combined with that beseeching fearful look in his eyes reminds me a helluva lot of a neighborhood dog that was pal’s with my family’s dog when I was a kid growing up in the wilderness of New England. The dog’s name was Buffy, and her back was permanently humped into a skulking curve, her movements were skittish, her eyes were kind and sad and beseeching, her tail was permanently tucked between her legs and ears flat against her head because her asshole owner beat and beat and beat her into that posture. Just for being a dog and disobeying his every fucking command. She was the sweetest dog despite that abuse. To this day, I want to kick the teeth out of that man’s mouth for doing what he did to that dog.)
The tiger’s not culprit.
I misread the title of this piece and hold responsibility for the rampage in my misreading.
The garden tore him apart.
(Hell, look what it did to Adam & Eve.)
As always, I enjoy the journeys your art take me on, brother.
I don’t think that’s a tiger no I know my tigers lions cougars big cats I know them and that’s no tiger that face is not of this earth. The train! All day long I’ve been considering that train. And the blood stained palm. Good Bog this is masterful and new.
Well, you are on to something grand there, I believe.
You made me do more pondering, and at the stroke of midnight last night I sat bolt upright in my bed and saw what it was that was going on there, in all its intricacies.
I think, and this is going a bit far afield, but I think that the train is very important to the image. I think if you can imagine the holder of the train as the engineer of the train, as the engineer of the whole kit-n-kaboodle, as the maker of things, then you will have a key that will grant admittance to the whole of the work.
wondrous. the guy looks like one of those bank tellers from bonnie and clyde. and i felt that one reason the gaunt tiger looks so hungry is he appears to have a cheetah’s face ha.
The Dishwasher's Tears 
oh god
I can’t stop looking.
thank you.
that is the appropriate response.
yrs-
tearful
It is pretty engaging in a strange and beautiful way. My grandson’s dream-fear animal is a tiger. I don’t think I’ll show him this picture.
every human’s dream-fear animal is a tiger.
because they have eaten so many of us, they know us more intimately than most.
you shouldn’t show him any of my work, btw.
yrs-
tearful
I remember the day one of my English professors — a very distinguished Brit — told us about an article he’d read in a magazine by a poet who claimed to have seen The Devil in her backyard and it had a long, swishing tail. This picture reminds me a bit of that — and I conjure the same sort of thing in my little mind.
i never saw the devil but i did see a lion crossing the street just down from my house, come out of the hills, and his long twitchy tail was as long as his entire tawny body. He stopped in the middle of the street and looked toward me and then continued along. Meanwhile, I felt a fear a million years old course through me, deeper and more thrilling than any fear I’d known before.
My favorite single thing about this piece is how pathetic and malnourished the tiger looks.
He’s got that bad dog just caught doing bad things look on his face.
It’s a pleading look. It’s a I’m not guilty even though I’m guilty look.
It’s a don’t roll up the paper and beat me look.
(Actually, the way his ears are flattened against his head, combined with that beseeching fearful look in his eyes reminds me a helluva lot of a neighborhood dog that was pal’s with my family’s dog when I was a kid growing up in the wilderness of New England. The dog’s name was Buffy, and her back was permanently humped into a skulking curve, her movements were skittish, her eyes were kind and sad and beseeching, her tail was permanently tucked between her legs and ears flat against her head because her asshole owner beat and beat and beat her into that posture. Just for being a dog and disobeying his every fucking command. She was the sweetest dog despite that abuse. To this day, I want to kick the teeth out of that man’s mouth for doing what he did to that dog.)
The tiger’s not culprit.
I misread the title of this piece and hold responsibility for the rampage in my misreading.
The garden tore him apart.
(Hell, look what it did to Adam & Eve.)
As always, I enjoy the journeys your art take me on, brother.
Laurel-
thank you, as always, your eyes enrich my own experience of my art.
as do your words.
thanks!
I hope he recovers!
I love the tiger in the background. His ears look friendly, and yet…
xo,
m
His ears I believe are flattened.
Out of fear of discovery.
Not friendly, I think….but not threatening, either.
I don’t think that’s a tiger no I know my tigers lions cougars big cats I know them and that’s no tiger that face is not of this earth. The train! All day long I’ve been considering that train. And the blood stained palm. Good Bog this is masterful and new.
Holy crap.
love,
rebecca
Well, you are on to something grand there, I believe.
You made me do more pondering, and at the stroke of midnight last night I sat bolt upright in my bed and saw what it was that was going on there, in all its intricacies.
By Bog I did.
yrs-
Scott
That is weird and wild. In other words perfect. Two days ago I was drawing trains. But not the rest. Not that good. that man’s face is too familiar.
wonderful
love d
ps , how come i can’t post from blogger, don’t get it.
I think, and this is going a bit far afield, but I think that the train is very important to the image. I think if you can imagine the holder of the train as the engineer of the train, as the engineer of the whole kit-n-kaboodle, as the maker of things, then you will have a key that will grant admittance to the whole of the work.
Perhaps I overstate my meaning.
yrs-
Scott
wondrous. the guy looks like one of those bank tellers from bonnie and clyde. and i felt that one reason the gaunt tiger looks so hungry is he appears to have a cheetah’s face ha.
also key to understanding the piece is understanding the role of of the putative criminal in the case. Sure, he seems a lot like a tiger.
But he’s the bagman, that’s all.
He’s as frightened of what’s gone down as everybody else, only more so.
He’s the fall-guy. The patsy.
Look at that guy who made it all happen, look at the blood on his hands and his torn and bloody shirt.
Then look in his eyes.
You see any remorse there?
He’s misdirecting us.
He’s holding the bag and pointing to the fall guy, like he always does.
Don’t be fooled.
yrs-
Scott
Eerie. The figure with the soiled hand is such a marvelous mixture: innocence and knowledge.
Warm regards from South Beach
Mim-
So wonderful to see you here again!!!!
innocence and knowledge, you’ve summed it up perfectly.
really, you did.
yrs-
Scott
oh! wicked good…
thanks, bobbi!
Saw this today and thought of you: http://www.improvisedlife.com/2012/03/08/the-most-astounding-fact-neil-degrasse-tyson/#more-22166
Elizabeth-
I enjoyed that tremendously, and I’m grateful you thought of me and pointed my way to it.
Happy Birthday to Sophie!
yrs-
Scott