Sunday, February 28, 2016


"The Vast thrills, as well as terrifies—it was well called by Kant 'the terrifying Sublime.'"

—page 16, The Island of the Colorblind by Oliver Sacks

Friday, February 26, 2016


"War Boar" by Troy's Work Table. Carport chalking for Friday 26 February 2016.

Sidewalk chalk, glitter sidewalk chalk, charcoal, chalk pastels.

Thursday, February 25, 2016


Closeup abstract detail of "The Scent of Hatred (Styx)" by Troy's Work Table. Chalkboard chalking for Thursday 25 February 2015.

Face off.

Sidewalk chalk, charcoal.


Another river.

Another question posed to the search engine oracle.

What is the smell of hate?


Coals. Waves of flame. Piercing purple light.

Blurred bursts of yellow. Burning.


Styx. River of hate. The slow and tortured bleed.

Swear upon it.


Rage and seethe HERE.


Warm/red light version of "The Color of Forgetfulness (Lethe)" by Troy's Work Table. Chalkboard chalking for Wednesday 24 February 2015.

Sidewalk chalk, charcoal.


The question posed
to the search engine oracle is
What is the color of forgetting?

The images response
is the blue petals of forget-me-nots
the yellow center of the same

A swirl of blue, yellow,
orange, green, and red
that heads down the drain


Lethe. River of forgetfulness. The quiet churning of the water.

Remember to breathe.


Swim and dream HERE.

Wednesday, February 24, 2016


We like a Hairbreadth 'scape
It tingles in the Mind
Far after Act or Accident
Like paragraphs of Wind

If we had ventured less
The Breeze were not so fine
That reaches to our utmost Hair
Its Tentacles divine.

—poem #1175 by Emily Dickinson


There is a holiness in the gift of remembering. Risk survived that writes Word and Spirit into the substance of our soul.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016


There is a pain—so utter—
It swallows substance up—
Then covers the Abyss with Trance—
So Memory can step
Around—across—upon it—
As One within a Swoon—
Goes safely—where an open eye—
Would drop Him—Bone by Bone.

—poem #599 by Emily Dickinson


There is a holiness in the gift of forgetting. Pain so intense that we are granted reprieve.

Friday, February 19, 2016


"Gravitational Waves" by Troy's Work Table. Carport chalking for Friday 19 February 2016.

Charcoal, homemade sidewalk chalk, sidewalk chalk.


Apparently, some astrophysicists were able to capture/observe data that points toward the existence of gravitational waves, which in turn helps to strengthen and further confirm Einstein's theory of relativity.


For whatever reason, I could only picture two slabs of meat colliding rather than black holes.

This cosmic shank and cosmic steak are related to the "meat and chaos" of "Fruiting Bodies" and the tiny cuts of "Dendritic."

And I don't have any better explanation for this piece than that!


View more detailed photographs of "Gravitational Waves" HERE.

Wednesday, February 17, 2016


Detail of "Hen" by Troy's Work Table. Chalkboard chalking for Wednesday 17 February 2016.

Sidewalk chalk, chalk pastels, and charcoal on chalkboard.


More experimentation with the new chalkboards. I found that wetting the chalk and pastels just slightly allowed them to adhere to the board better. Then using the sharp edges of the charcoal similar to the effect of sgraffito or scratchboard to "cut" through the chalk to the black of the board below helped to add some detail.


View more photographs of "Hen," including the full piece, HERE.

Tuesday, February 16, 2016


Closeup abstract of "Tuesday's Child" by Troy's Work Table.



"Tuesday's Child" by Troy's Work Table. Chalkboard chalking for Tuesday 16 February 2016.

Sidewalk chalk and chalk pastels on chalkboard.


I have new chalkboards for indoor chalking. Each board is 22" x 24" and has a cutout handle.

The challenge of the boards is that they are very smooth and my sidewalk chalk doesn't want to stick to the boards.

I am experimenting and trying to figure out the best way to use these boards. I wetted the board and used the chalk more like paint than I would on concrete. I also used wet cotton swabs to "paint" some features with water.


View more photographs of "Tuesday's Child" HERE.

Monday, February 15, 2016


"[We] both refused under any circumstances to say 'We believe in one God.' 'Credo cannot become credamus', he said, and I mournfully recalled to him some of those who had died for such single words as the filioque. No two human beings, Wystan declared (and I agreed, and agree) ever believed in the same God: the Nicene Creed (as also the Apostles and the Athanasian) are affirmations of my faith, my adherence to the Church, not yours, or ours."

—page 89, "Reality and Religion" by Anne Fremantle, from W. H. Auden: A Tribute edited by Stephen Spender


"I had not welcomed this little feller, who looked like he had come into this world only to pule and die. Once winter set in, there were times I felt that little Lucius would be far better off dead. He brought no joy to our meager hearth but only plagued us down those cold dark days with his starved fret and yawling. Mandy was shocked when I spoke this way, and reproved me for my "brutal way of talking." I told her that the world was brutal, man's lot, too, so if there really was a God, she had better face God's will. 'That is your God's will, not my God's, Mr. Watson,' my wife said."

—page 608, Shadow Country by Peter Matthiessen


I was a good Christian; born and bred in the bosom of the infallible Presbyterian Church. How then could I unite with this wild idolator in worshipping his piece of wood? But what is worship? thought I. Do you suppose now, Ishmael, that the magnanimous God of heaven and earth—pagans and all included—can possibly be jealous of an insignificant bit of black wood? Impossible! But what is worship?—to do the will of Godthat is worship. And what is the will of God?—to do to my fellow man what I would have my fellow man to do to me—that is the will of God. Now, Queequeg is my fellow man. And what do I wish that this Queequeg would do to me? Why, unite with me in my particular Presbyterian form of worship. Consequently, i must then unite with him in his; ergo, I must turn idolator. So I kindled the shavings; helped prop up the innocent little idol; offered him burnt biscuit with Queequeg; salamed before him twice or thrice; kissed his nose; and that done, we undressed and went to bed, at peace with our own consciences and all the world. But we did not go to sleep without some little chat. 

—from chapter 10, "A Bosom Friend," as found in Moby-Dick by Herman Melville

Friday, February 12, 2016


"Lincoln 207" by Troy's Work Table Publishing. Carport chalking for Friday 12 February 2016.

Sidewalk chalk, charcoal, chalk pastels.


Happy 207th birthday to the 16th President of these United States of America, Abraham Lincoln!


View more pictures of "Lincoln 207" HERE.

Monday, February 08, 2016


"Fabrica 2007" by Troy's Work Table.

Cranial slice and lumbar slice.

Sidewalk chalk and chalk pastels.

Testing out the new chalkboards.


Tête de moine en prière, etching, 1845, by Charles Emile Jacque.

Public domain, from The New York Public Library.


Transfiguration lingers for but a moment, a mere three days separating it from Ash Wednesday, which looms larger with each minute that passes. We descend the mountain into the valley. The high places are laid low.


"By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread until you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return."

—Genesis 3:19


"Death is ordinary."

—William T. Vollmann, Rising Up and Rising Down, Volume 1, from "Three Meditations on Death."


"We begin this day [Ash Wednesday] with that taste of ash in our mouth: / ... / we can taste our mortality as we roll the ash around on our tongues / ... / that dry, flaky taste of death."

—Walter Brueggemann, Prayers for a Privileged People, from "Marked by Ashes."


"Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death / Pray for us now and at the hour of our death."

—T. S. Eliot, from section I of "Ash Wednesday."


"And after this our exile"

—T. S. Eliot, from section IV of "Ash Wednesday."


"And let my cry come unto Thee."

—T. S. Eliot, from section VI of "Ash Wednesday."


"In the whole world, throughout the whole of history, even among religious men and among saints, Christ suffers dismemberment...Christ is massacred in His members, torn limb from limb; God is murdered in men."

—Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation, from chapter 10, "A Body of Broken Bones."


"The stench hung over the valley, / palpable. Nobody / waded into the fouled stable // without drowning."

—Kathleen Flenniken, Plume, from "Augean Suite, I. The Fifth Labor of Hercules."


"[death] [dust] [eyes]"

—Kathleen Flenniken, Plume, from "If You Can Read This"


What do we see when we close our eyes? What do we hear when we listen for the small still voice? Whom do we become in that moment?

Sunday, February 07, 2016


Sunrise on North Hill. Transfiguration of Our Lord.

Saturday, February 06, 2016


The yard is filled with the most crocuses ever! (This is just a small sample.)

Friday, February 05, 2016


"Aegis" by Troy's Work Table Publishing. Carport chalking for Friday 05 February 2016.

Sidewalk chalk, charcoal, chalk pastels.


"Aegis" was drawn over the remnants of "Stheno" so the Gorgoneion on Athena's aegis is not from "The Rapes of Medusa" but a new iteration.


View more pictures of "Aegis" HERE.

Tuesday, February 02, 2016


Detail of "Ashes to Ashes (Blackstar)" by Troy's Work Table. Nighttime carport chalking for Tuesday 12 January 2016.


For each person, their own Bowie.

Read about my Bowie, the Bowie of Troy Kehm-Goins, “David Bowie, Musical Messiah” at Post Defiance.