I wanted to make a fable don't judge me.

Samson and Mortimer were identical twins. They were so identical that even their mother found it difficult to distinguish one from the other, at least during their initial days on earth.

On the contrary, they were very different from each other when it came to everything other than their appearance. Samson had no friends, while Mortimer was a great friendship maker. Samson loved sweets, but Mortimer loved spicy food and detested sweets. While Samson was generous and selfless, Mortimer was greedy and selfish.

As Samson and Mortimer grew, their father wanted to share his fortune equally among them. However, Mortimer detested this and he argued that whoever proved to be more intelligent and strong would have to get a larger portion of their fathers wealth.

Samson went along with his brother, wanting to cause no trouble. Their father decided to organize a competition between the two. He asked the two sons to walk as long as they could, and return home before sunset. The wealth would be divided in proportion to the distance covered. As a rule of the competition, they were not permitted to carry a watch to keep track of the time.

The following day, Samson and Mortimer set out to walk. It was a rather sunny day. Samson walked slowly and steadily, while Mortimer broke into a sprint as he was bent on winning the race and also winning a greater portion of his father’s wealth.

Samson knew that it would be ideal to walk as far as possible till noon and start for home at noon as it would take the same amount of time to walk back home. Knowing this, Samson decided to turn back for home at noon so as reach home on time.

However, Mortimer, with his greed to earn more wealth, did not attempt to return home even after mid-noon. He walked twice as long as Samson, and thought he would still be able to return home before sunset. He hurried back when he saw the sun turn orange. Unfortunately, he could not even make it half way home as the sun started to set. Slowly darkness engulfed his path and he had to drag his tired feet back home.

He had lost the race. Only because of his greed.

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The kind hearted one

Or the greed filled black soul

Only one will rise

Interior II

My home doesn't exist to you

It is on another plane of existence

Not for you, just for me

I come home to escape your world

The chair, the rug, the dust is placed strategically

When you find yourself in my home

You see an empty room with that unfamiliar smell

I see a vibrant safety net, ready for me with open arms

I am ready to come home

Home sweet home

Swingeing London 67 

The time of out lives is here

The time to be young

The time to be wild

The time to be free

The time to ignore the laws

The time to be who you truly are

The time to make your head spin

The time to show the man who's the boss

The time is now

Richard William Hamilton

The great pop artist was born a young baby on the day of Feb. 24th, 1922. It wouldn't be until many years later that he would become an artist. Even more years would go by until he would eventually die on Sep. 13th, 2011. As we try to look back on his child hood, not much can be found. He obviously had a mother and father, or else he would have never been born, but who his parents were, no one knows. As he grew into himself, he want to Central Saint Martins, Slade School of Fine Art and also Royal Academy of Arts. He fell in love twice in his long life time. His first wife being Terry O'Rilley (m. 1947-1962) and then his second spouse until he died was Rita Donagh (m. 1991-2011).

Study for a Fashion plate

Some major historical events happened, like the Korean war started, Rock and Roll really took off, racial segregation ruled unconstitutional, color tv introduced, and the Vietnam War began. All this conflict around him would make you think that Richard Hamilton would have some sort of challenge. Especially because of his vulgar ground breaking work. Nope. He already broke all the rules in art so he had nothing to hold him back. He made art that he wanted and that is all there is to that. One quirky thing is that he was known as "Daddy Pop".

Daddy Pop's mediums consisted of collages, painting and graphics, normally all in one piece. His art happened during the Pop Art movement and took a major part in its development. Some of his most famous pieces was Just what is it that makes homes so different, so appealing?, Study for a Fashion plate, and Interior II. Personally I really like The Critic Laughs. Its dentures that giggle and shake. It is very neat to see in action. My other favorite by him Study for a Fashion plate (which can be seen above)

Just what is it that makes homes so different, so appealing?

• "If I am out of my mind, it's alright with me, thought Moses Herzog."
• Saul Bellow
• Born: June 10, 1915, Lachine, Canada
• Died: April 5, 2005, Brookline, MA
• Saul Bellow was a Canadian-American writer. For his literary work, Bellow was awarded the Pulitzer Prize, the Nobel Prize for Literature, and the National Medal of Arts. He is the only writer to win the National Book Award for Fiction three times and he received the National Book Foundation's lifetime Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters in 1990. (Nothing specific was found for him in 1964)
• Herzog is set in 1964 in the United States, and is about the midlife crisis of a Jewish man named Moses E. Herzog. At the age of forty-seven, he is just emerging from his second divorce, this one particularly acrimonious. He has two children, one by each wife, who are growing up without him. His career as a writer and an academic has floundered. He is in a relationship with a vibrant woman, Ramona, but finds himself running away from commitment.
• Personally, as an uncultured reader, this just seems boring to me. I would much rather read a romance. I just feel as though there is no room for me to relate. He is a middle-aged Jewish  man down on his luck. I am a plucky 17 year old who is scared of the life ahead of her. This just doesn't seem like my cup of tea.

• "After a while i went out and left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain."
• Ernest Hemingway
• Born: July 21, 1899, Oak Park, IL
• Died: July 2, 1961, Ketchum, ID
• Ernest Hemingway  was an American novelist, short story writer, and journalist. His economical and understated style had a strong influence on 20th-century fiction, while his life of adventure and his public image influenced later generations. Hemingway produced most of his work between the mid-1920s and the mid-1950s, and won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1954. He published seven novels, six short story collections, and two non-fiction works. Many of his works are considered classics of American literature.
• A Farewell to Arms is a novel by Ernest Hemingway set during the Italian campaign of World War I. The book, published in 1929, is a first-person account of American Frederic Henry, serving as a Lieutenant in the ambulance corps of the Italian Army. The title is taken from a poem by 16th-century English dramatist George Peele.
• This book sounds like the most boring thing I might ever have to read. Reading about the army does not appeal to me, especially a first person account of the army. I respect soldiers, and I appreciate what they do, but this genre doesn't appeal to me. Sorry, Ernest. 

If I am out of my mind, it's alright with me. 

I don't know if things are okay, I think they might be, but with me who knows? I know that people are judging me for being here, I don't mind though. If I were on the outside looking in, I'd judge me too. I won't be here much longer, I have a plan. It had raining for a week, it always seems much drearier when it rains. A hospital can only get so much more depressing. The rain stopped during the day, but the clouds were rolling back around. The nurses keep a close eye on me, I think they know that I have a plan, but no matter what happens, I will get out. I have been here for far too god damn long, I am even more tired than I was before I came up. There was no help, nothing they could do would ever put me in my right mind again. I doubt they really care, everything's a job to them. You'd think that they'd be doing a better job, but who knows, maybe they don't get paid enough to wipe our asses and dry our tears. It's all behind me though, or at least it will be. I can't sit still anymore, I can't stand it. I can't stand the smell anymore, I can’t stand the people. I can barely stand myself, but at least if I left I would be able to do what I want, go where I want and try and be what I want. I don’t want to have to explain myself and how I got out, I’m tired of explaining my actions to people who aren’t really listening. I know eventually I’ll be found, and that eventually I’ll be back here, I could never be on my own for too long, it never ended well. Leaving was surprisingly easy, I didn’t expect to get out- or back in- so easily. In all my excitement to escape, I had forgotten the one thing that matter to me, a stuffed bear I had won for myself at some stupid carnival I went to as a child. I luckily did not realize too late, and hadn’t gotten too far. Well, actually, I had gotten pretty damn far. I got all the way to my damn hotel, and had to get a taxi back, just to sneak in and out again. I cursed myself for holding onto such a stupid item. After a little hard work, I was able to snuggle the bear against my body, clinging to it for warmth and comfort. I mingled with a few of the other patients, trying to time it right. My escape had to be perfect, considering that ten minutes ago, I was out and had to march my happy ass right back in. I took a deep breath, and walked to the front door, thunder clapping for me as I did. The clouds opened up, rain beating hard against the windows.

After a while i went out and left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain.

                             

Honestly, I hate all art classes.