She-who-is-on-sabbatical got me thinking about feral artists. Imagine the MacDowell Colony (which I know about only because our sorority was somehow connected to it) only the writers and artists are meandering about the grounds, lapping from little cups of espresso or hand-thrown mugs of herbal tea, their matted hair falling in their eyes as they do cat yoga in the sun.
Of course, Googling "feral art" produces some lovely results, like this. Or this. Or this. And even this.
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2 comments:
I like this one best: "If you run wild and adapt in Hyper Nature then you must by definition be Hyper-Feral."
I'm still picturing fral artists entaining the 7th Fleet...just shows you where my mind is at!
And you may want to pass along the bad news, female cats are either in season, coming into season, or going out of season, from Spring until Fall.
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