Mat Twassel's photos
Laid Table
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Over the weekend we visited the Milwaukee Art Museum. We had not been in at least 20 years, and I was very pleased they still had the wonderfull gallery of Haitian art. I love the bright, vivid colors and interesting scenes of those paintings. New to us was this piece, "Laid Table (Still Life with Metal Pitcher), 2007" by Beth Lipman. The description reads: Blown, sculpted, lamp-worked, kiln-cast, and kiln-formed glass on wood table.
The way it's lighted is spectacular and impossible not to photograph.
Also in Milwaukee we discovered the Grohmann Museum, which is attached to the Milwaukee School of Engineering. They have a large collection of paintings and sculptures with the theme "work." Many of them were done by German and Dutch artists of the 18th and 19th centuries. I really like that style.
Road Thrill
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On my two mile jog this morning I found a dime, a quarter, and a nut. Earlier this week I found two pennies, a tiny washer, and a small screw—no more than one piece of loot per run. Back in the day my mom would pick up loose change (and the occasional five dollar bill) walking inside the mall. My coin collection probably is not genetic: I don’t expect to continue my road harvesting habit; not unless the value of the haul shows a geometric progression toward Trumpdom.
The dime fits very neatly into the nut. That sort of accidental precision makes me happy.
Sunset Muffin Has Set
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Tea leaves and coffee grounds and chicken bones can be read, but what about muffin crumbs? Anyway, this one was delicious.
Evidence
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About every other day I go for a two mile run on the streets near my house. At the halfway mark I walk for about fifty yards to catch my breath before running home. The other day, during my walk, I noticed this spent shell casing on the pavement next to the curb. I thought about notifying the police, for gun fire is rare to non-existent in my neighborhood (to the best of my knowledge). But I let it be and did not inform any authorities. Two days later the casing was still there. I picked it up and took it home.
Bark
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I have a passion, albeit a minor one, for bark. Too bad (perhaps) that here we're pretty much limited to the visual.
Turtles
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On sunny mornings as many as thirty turtles, some small, some large, some in between, bask on the bank of the pond just below our balcony. For several weeks now I’ve been trying to get a picture of them, but the creatures are skittish. One false move and they lurch into the pond. I sneak down to the lower level wearing my soft leather slippers, careful not to crack a twig, and snap them, but they don’t come out properly. Concealed in a hazy blur of digital film, they mock me.
Today it’s cloudy out. Grayish green. No turtles. So I settle for this pepper.
Red Wire
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I always think whatever it is that travels along this wire is going left to right, but maybe that's not right.
Penknife and Donut on Yellow Cloth
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It seems I’ve always owned several penknives, but one time a number of years ago I found myself in Natick, Massachusetts, one thousand miles from home, without any of them. I was on the square at a bakery where they have excellent Morning Glorious muffins, and I needed a penknife to share the muffin with Laura. As it happened, there was a hardware store a few doors down, so I went there and told the clerk I needed a knife. She gave me a look that said she thought I was a serial killer and said rather nastily that they didn’t have knives. But a customer, a kindly old man, told me to try the outdoor supply shop just near the railroad bridge. So I walked over there, and they had lots of knives, and I bought this one without any fuss. I use it mostly for sharing treats and opening the seals on bottles of wine and sometimes opening mail. This is now the penknife I most often carry. It’s very light, with just enough weight so I know if it’s missing from my pocket. I don’t know how the chip came off the corner, but otherwise the handle is exceptionally smooth.
The donut came from Weber’s Little Donut Shop. Weber’s makes the best donuts in the world. Luckily they’re only on Cape San Blas and in the winter only open Friday through Sunday from 7:30 AM until they sell out, which sometimes happens before 10. The way we like to work it: Laura walks the 3 ½ miles from our place to Weber’s, and I set off by car 45 minutes later to meet her there. We buy the donuts (one dollar each plus a dollar tip), and then Laura takes the car and I jog home. The donuts and fresh coffee are waiting for me. On this day I bought a coconut (as a kid I hated coconut) and a maple dipped. Laura got a chocolate coconut and a chocolate dipped. Pure deliciousness.
Now that I look at this picture, I think there is something decidedly sexual about the donut. Do you agree? And I suppose I should admit that there is yet another use for the knife. With the blade safely shut, of course, it can gently caress Laura’s nipple skin, nudge her clitoris, and tease the edge of her anus. Pure deliciousness.
Blizzard
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Actually it’s pretty nice here today. The sun is warm, the wind is down from yesterday. Should be another good day on the Gulf Coast. I’m not unhappy to have missed the blizzard up north. We have power. We have Internet. We have snowman paper towels in case anything spills and needs to be mopped up. The only reason I post this, other than to mark the day after the bad weather in NYC, is because I really like the feathery bit of torn paper towel curled up at the bottom right. Like a wisp of snow caught for a few scant seconds in a pretty girl’s hair.
Flower
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conch
blue rebar
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bananagram-1
Fish
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Last night we had fish—a tilapia baked to perfection—along with couscous and a salad of fresh spinach, pears, and walnuts. Afterwards we watched two episodes of Transparent. Before going to bed, I filled the glass baking dish with hot soapy water and set it down to soak. In the morning I scraped the dish to loosen the debris and carried it to the bathroom to dump the water into the toilet, having first made sure that the toilet seat was up. In the story I write of this, no doubt it will be Laura who carries the dirty, water-filled baking dish. She will start out slow with the baking dish pressed against her bare belly, before I instruct her on the best way to avoid sloshing: hold the dish away from your body and walk fast but smooth and don’t look at the dish. In real life I managed not to slosh. In the story there may be quite a bit of sloshing. Anyway, I flushed the toilet and took the empty dish back to the kitchen sink and washed it thoroughly with fresh, hot, soapy water. I also washed the couscous pot and the salad bowl. But I forgot to wash the lid to the pot. An hour or so later (which would be about 15 minutes ago) I ran water onto the lid. The rush of water on the metal made a nice sound. I took a photo with my camera phone.
The Owl and the Pussycat
Boston Bridgework
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up there
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La Salle and Adams
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