Looking at a wedding image made behind the scenes before the proceedings got going, I noted in the background a bad piece of church art and, paying homage to conceptual photographer Uta Barth, decided to zip it out of its surroundings and call it art - all retextualized and fresh.
Besides stained glass windows, usually fairly interesting to look at, churches the world over seem to embrace bad art.
Yours Truly does indeed wonder why.
Look at this palette in the example, the composition.
Strictly Painting 101.

Last night went to Gary & Michele's grand opening for their B&B, on the Middling City's west side in a beautiful renovated home.
There is an onsite banister and YT had to give it a final polish, a try.
It slid nicely but has a complicated curve and what could be quite a painful ending - avoided.
Had the new kittie, Rumple, spayed for indeed she is a girl and now YT has no clear idea in hell why Rumple appeared to be spraying, or peeing out of her behind like a male.
Heady did the alterations and Rumple still likes me even after jetting her off to her medical appointment.
Time to ready for a wedding, a country club affair underneath these seasonal big fluffball clouds.

Fluffy Love.

“Somehow it’s dawning on me that I’m a more mature individual and I’m not a kid writing ‘Cherry, Cherry’ anymore,” Mr. Diamond said, referring to his first Top 10 hit, from 1966.

Yours Truly, who truly loves Neil more than ever before (Pandora Neil Diamond radio station today fired up with Song Sung Blue when Neil's hair was long and flowing and his clothing more hippie than Vegas), was just oso thrilled to read today's NYT quasi-review about what in hell Neil is up to: playing four nights at Madison Square Garden, making bundles of cash, and realizing that he is a grown man.
Some of his later fans do not get the Rick Rubin-produced release and they really need to spend more time with those songs for it's what Neil wanted to say.
I mean really.
There You are, ass in concert/stadium seat, being treated to a full-on Neil extravaganza.
His arms are up in the air, his baritone is booming, the flag might still be unfurling during America.

Rick Rubin, on the latest, led him back to stripped-down glory.
Meaning: Cherry Cherry (unarguably his best and one of the best songs ever written in these USofA) is not the work of a post-mid-career artist.

Looking at Neil's tour one thing is glaringly, sadly apparent.
Neil is bypassing the Middling City this tour.
Neil always came to the MC.
YT still loves Neil.

Love of the Solitary Man.

Oso enjoying this surreal Middling City weather.
Hail on Saturday night with zipping winds, mushy Sunday, mixed-bag Monday.
As I looked out the dreary official office à la BigU former wetlands campus, Yours Truly noted that the streaming waters resembled the encompassing waters of a carwash.
Instead of hula dancing strips of fabric, or spinning brushes, just beyond the waters was a view of Green.

sidebar of song: At the carwash Yeah, work and work ... keep those cars and limousines comin' ... work and work.

YT was wrapped in red tape whilst looking out the windows, tape that wound itself around my ankles and then, like a kudzu vine, it climbed up my neck and began wrapping there.
This was all about a Form B, something new from the Empire State for its consultants to report information that the Empire State should know of its own accord, as the writer of state checks.
If a database can be made public (thanks to Andrew Cuomo) of all the salaries of state employees, surely one could be devised to track the earnings of consultants/freelancers/contractors.
Just a thought.
And another thing, my new bumpersticker-ready slogan:
Red tape belongs on holiday packages.

This past weekend's fun times began in an airborn manner, literally.
Vino'd with Liz and Cheryl in Liz's garden (gardenia whiffs, memory of Victoria) and moved inside, sipping all the while.
Liz told us that her home was now sporting a new flop, a fancy TempurPedic mattress upstairs in the master/mistress chambers.
And, inspired by their advert about one being able to bounce upon the mattress's one side while not tipping over a wine glass on the other, Liz asked if we'd like to take the TempurPedic challenge - a bit like the NesTea plunge, YT believes.
Different action, same leap of faith.
So YT, being YT, positioned Cheryl's p&s cam atop a stack of books atop a vertical fan and set the timer and we three bounced merrily, not disturbing not one, not two, but THREE glasses of vino.
We made one, two images with the p&s with some minor adjustments made by YT of angle, placement of bedding.
Shot number three was perfection, save for the horizontal glass of vino that created a small puddle in the midwestern region of the flop.
Quick run for towels, headblower, the ginger lifting of mattress padding and voi-freakin'-là, no vino stank above the new foam aroma floating in the air.
And one great shot of the three of us to boot.
If Cheryl doesn't send the image soon YT will create her artist's rendering of the scene.

Scenic Love.

+ This just in.
Artistic rendering by YT.