Word: forthings
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...America, those responsibilities were delegated to fabricators, as in most Minimalism. But the special intensity of Puryear's work comes from doing everything himself, mainly in wood (though tar, mud and wire also figure in his repertoire). Through the action of the shaping hand on wood, he brings forth a poetry of material substance that's unique in today's America. Puryear has always been troubled by the art/craft division in American culture. "At bottom it's a class issue really," he says. "'Art' means thought; 'craft' means manual work." But it's never so simple, for craft means thinking...
...concussion." I offer this diagnosis to Luci. "I think she's had her first sports concussion." I tell her that I got one playing football, that my sister Gail got one skiing. Luci hugs Caroline and rocks back and forth on the edge of the bed. The doctor comes to talk with us and confirms that, in the best of all worlds, this is going to be a concussion, nothing more. "There's no internal bleeding, no break in the bones. It's amazing, really, that a professionally hit ball could go that far and hit her square...
...they are seeking the same thing our forebears were: a better life. Many of the immigrants from Mexico are performing jobs that no American would even consider. Where would we be without these workers? The new immigrants are just like our grandparents and great-grandparents when they were venturing forth to find a future in America. KATHLEEN AUSTIN Chicago...
...like Fiona need all the help they can get: only one in three survive. The six-month-old arrived only a few days earlier and sits pressed at the back of her cage, staring blankly out, her huge eyes numb with fear, clutching herself tightly and rocking back and forth ceaselessly. But with luck and good mothering, she too will be transformed within weeks or months into one of the scampering, mischievous brats swinging effortlessly through the air in the playground next door...
...Journal would be a heady tonic for anyone who moves in the power circles of Washington D.C., let alone a district court judge in the autumn of his years. Jackson may well argue that he simply could not contain himself; his rage at the disingenuousness and the arrogance spewing forth from the Microsoft bench day after day was as ill-disguised inside the courtroom as out - more than once he called a recess, red-faced and practically spitting, to compose himself...