The Sculptridge Vista
Introspection & Artistry of Sculptor Brad King
Introspection & Artistry of Sculptor Brad King
Please click on the following Vistas:
"Flights of Fancy"
"Have ya got a few minutes to talk about the end of the world?” Well, upon completion of his questions Beaker, who by then had perched on the overhead telephone wire, went into a frenzy of wing flapping and heavy cawing. He was acting like a protective watchdog…
"Bridge Building"
Old lumber was stealthily removed from Dad’s coveted stockpiles, whereupon it was quickly lashed and nailed together bridging various obstacles all over the yard and woods. In one escapade I remember forcing my younger sister to lie down as I erected an overpass directly above her.
"Stone Cold Babes"
Maybe the reason why these figurines were depicted so down right corpulent was to discourage Stone Age man from desiring intimacy with their mate. Is it possible these Venuses were one of the first contraceptive devices ever used by women?
"Slithering Serpents"
This sensation started to take over me that morning as I settled down on the hard slab, my mind’s thoughts being released to that dreamland choreographer who rambles on in some incoherent fashion during the early phases of a cat-nap.
"Walk Softly But Carry a Big"
As recently as thirty thousand years ago prehistoric people took another great leap forward moving from the fabrication of utility / functional objects to the creation of symbolic art.
"Last Moments"
More than likely some last moment had occurred, some letting go, some maturing, so much so that it must of seemed unnecessary to keep this favorite prop.
"An Iconic Image"
“Quick, run outdoors and look at the moon,” my mother yelled, “the Russians have just hit it with a rocket!” The screen door slamming behind me, I rushed outside scanning the sky in search of that silvery disc.
"The Art of Jack"
Lying there, wrapped tight like a mummy, I would listen to the wind howl through cracks and crevices, and ponder what this character of cold really looked like.
"The World in a Whirl"
In the distance, above the freight train-like whooshing sound, could be heard hardwood and conifer trees being toppled, snapped and shredded apart as the behemoth raged on its destructive path.
"Chop Wood . . . Carry Water"
Sometimes on the gnarly sticks Grandpa would feel the outer surface of the wood almost like he was mystically imaging the grain’s structure contained within.
"Flights of Fancy"
"Have ya got a few minutes to talk about the end of the world?” Well, upon completion of his questions Beaker, who by then had perched on the overhead telephone wire, went into a frenzy of wing flapping and heavy cawing. He was acting like a protective watchdog…
"Bridge Building"
Old lumber was stealthily removed from Dad’s coveted stockpiles, whereupon it was quickly lashed and nailed together bridging various obstacles all over the yard and woods. In one escapade I remember forcing my younger sister to lie down as I erected an overpass directly above her.
"Stone Cold Babes"
Maybe the reason why these figurines were depicted so down right corpulent was to discourage Stone Age man from desiring intimacy with their mate. Is it possible these Venuses were one of the first contraceptive devices ever used by women?
"Slithering Serpents"
This sensation started to take over me that morning as I settled down on the hard slab, my mind’s thoughts being released to that dreamland choreographer who rambles on in some incoherent fashion during the early phases of a cat-nap.
"Walk Softly But Carry a Big"
As recently as thirty thousand years ago prehistoric people took another great leap forward moving from the fabrication of utility / functional objects to the creation of symbolic art.
"Last Moments"
More than likely some last moment had occurred, some letting go, some maturing, so much so that it must of seemed unnecessary to keep this favorite prop.
"An Iconic Image"
“Quick, run outdoors and look at the moon,” my mother yelled, “the Russians have just hit it with a rocket!” The screen door slamming behind me, I rushed outside scanning the sky in search of that silvery disc.
"The Art of Jack"
Lying there, wrapped tight like a mummy, I would listen to the wind howl through cracks and crevices, and ponder what this character of cold really looked like.
"The World in a Whirl"
In the distance, above the freight train-like whooshing sound, could be heard hardwood and conifer trees being toppled, snapped and shredded apart as the behemoth raged on its destructive path.
"Chop Wood . . . Carry Water"
Sometimes on the gnarly sticks Grandpa would feel the outer surface of the wood almost like he was mystically imaging the grain’s structure contained within.