My Artwork
Blue Ridge Autumn Original Painting has been Sold
Prints on Paper or Canvas Available at KENDALL KESSLER ART
Lake Sunset Original 5"x7" Oil Painting $75.00
Prints on Paper or Canvas Available at KENDALL KESSLER ART
Pink Light Original 30"x40" Oil Painting $2425.00
Prints on Paper or Canvas Available at KENDALL KESSLER ART
Roanoke Theater Ghost Story
The
Grandin Theater in Roanoke was built in 1932 and is one of the first
theaters with sound. It was closed for a while in the '50s and a
homeless family lived there. Two of the children died there and some say
that late at night you can hear a baby crying in the stairwell.
Former projectionists have stories about strange occurrences late at night. One time a small boy was sighted at the top of a staircase and the projectionist followed him because he thought the child hadn't left the theater after the movie.
He saw the child walk straight through the doors of the nearest screening room.
I found this story on the online version of Collegiate Times. The article is called Ghostly Stories, Haunted Sites, and Sinister Sisters Who Scare.
Life with The Word and Bird Man - Clyde Kessler
Yesterday I printed one of the two poems that Clyde just published in the online magazine, Red Rose. He is publishing his work all the time now and is included in an anthology. Here is the other poem that was published.
I hope you like it! I think his work is great! It is not easy reading so take your time and think about each word!
Elegy for a Time Freak
Clyde Kessler
Clyde Kessler
I burn sundials on the moon.
Other time freaks are crating the ashes,
naming them all for all their frozen days.
Other time freaks are crating the ashes,
naming them all for all their frozen days.
At night, I know my true wish list
is a crater full of rum, a dark
breed of whiskey flowering like stars.
is a crater full of rum, a dark
breed of whiskey flowering like stars.
At work, you can trust my lighters
and rolling flints. The noon shadow
on my next bonfire is favoring silver
like a thunder-cloud to brood the Dead Sea.
There are no ratty scrolls here, nor heaven.
and rolling flints. The noon shadow
on my next bonfire is favoring silver
like a thunder-cloud to brood the Dead Sea.
There are no ratty scrolls here, nor heaven.
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