Internationally known folk artist Marvin Finn recently died in Louisville after a long illness. The Kentucky Museum of Art and Craft carries his work, similar to his “Flock of Finns” sculptures that move around the city. LEO sends our condolences to his family.
TRADITIONAL PHOTOGRAPHYFIRST PLACE “Apple, Boots” by Bill Brymerâ€œApple, Bootsâ€ by Bill Brymer: TRADITIONAL PHOTOGRAPHY â€” FIRST PLACE
Big CircleBY GRAY SMITHAlbert jerked his sweat-soaked head up from his pillow. Today was the day. A lifetime of dreaming and fervent preparation for one single hour — the window between experiments that would leave him alone with the world’s most powerful scanning electron microscope. Albert’s life had been an obsession with the microscopic cosmos. He’d penetrated atoms, protons, neutrons, electrons — all elephantine compared to today’s quarry —
HOLYBY AMY TUDORPreakness Stakes, 2006The ankle of a horse is holy. —Larry Levis
[img_assist|nid=3790|title=A jury said MSD violated the law|desc=illustration by Ashley Cecil / www.ashleycecil.com A jury said MSD violated the law by laying off Sarah Lynn Cunningham, above, but did not impose financial penalties.|link=|align=left|width=186|height=200]There was no smoking gun in the trial of two former employees who sued the Metropolitan Sewer District for wrongful termination, so the whole thing was that much harder to understand, particularly for our “CSI” culture of neatly wrapped hour-long whodunits.
The word “sculptress” tells you two things — the artwork is a sculpture and a woman created it. The feminine ending is outdated now, but it was hard-won. A male sculptor told Louise Nevelson, one of the prominent artists of the 20th century, early in her career that she couldn’t be a sculptor. Nevelson said he told her, “‘Don’t you know, Nevelson, you’ve got to have balls to be a sculptor.’ And I replied, ‘Oh, well, I’ve got balls.’ And (the man) shut up.”
La Belle époque or A Week Without YouBY JESSICA ELLIOTT The old man who lives upstairs goes wandering down the street every Saturday at noon. He finds me crouched between bushes, smoking a cigarette. He’s surprised to find me there. I tell him that I’m hiding, and he thinks it’s a joke.
Going to My Happy PlaceBY MATTHEW HEIMERDINGERWhen I sit and think long thoughts like the toes of old men, knobby and
Literary LEO is an annual rite that dates to the early years of this newspaper. It has grown along with the newspaperâ€™s readership, and each year, LEO receives hundreds of poems, prose and photographs from throughout the community.
Each year, LEO also features an evening of public readings by the winning writers and an exhibit of the winning photographs. This yearâ€™s event takes place tomorrow, Thursday, Feb. 1, at the Jazz Factory, 815 W. Market St. Thereâ€™s no cover, and it starts at 7:30 p.m.
Enjoy the views and viewpoints presented here. â€”Elizabeth Kramer
Denny Crum Court. About damn time. I’m told The Rick, who has always been publicly deferential to the former coach, was the main mover. Anybody familiar with the bad blood that has existed between Hall-of-Famer Crum and the current AD will tell you this was far from a sure thing ever happening under the current administration. Kudos and thanks to all who had the good sense and sanity to make it reality.