Sam Dantone


Profile

Sam Dantone
Age: 37
City: Florence, Or
Country: United States
Joined: Sep 2008

I am an artist with many facets.

The common thread that stitches all of my work together is my critique on man’s apparent love for life and his constant destruction of it.

In the fine arts world I use any material the moment calls for. I work in all dimensions including 3-D, 2-D, performance and virtual.

In the commercial world I am a sign man, muralist, graphic designer and computer artist. With my wife Karen, we operate our sign shop in Florence, OR. You can see more of my work (murals, organic paintings, signs and more) on our sign shop web site.

TreeHouseSigns.com

Journal Entries

Fliers... a punker's blow horn.

Posted 10 days ago, 6 comments so far.

East Coast - West Coast Collaboration...

Posted about 1 month ago, 5 comments so far.

Collaboration on The Dark Side of the Street...

Posted about 1 month ago, 10 comments so far.

MrHill goes to Bubbleland...

Posted about 1 month ago, 4 comments so far.

Time Capsule...

Posted about 1 month ago, 7 comments so far.

No Evil? or Deaf, Dumb and Blind...

Posted 2 months ago, 4 comments so far.

I'm Feelin' Evil...

Posted 2 months ago, 4 comments so far.

Shameless Self Promotion Banner Challenges

Posted 2 months ago, 2 comments so far.

Many thanks, possibly belated...

Posted 3 months ago, 13 comments so far.

March 26, 2009...

Posted 3 months ago, 7 comments so far.

Writing

She stands and stares...

I stand behind her, as she fades away. She stands and stares, as though he is due back today. He is just behind an invisible curtain. He will return, she is certain. His promi…

Two kinds of Breaks...

“There are only two kinds of Breaks in life. They are Ups and Downs. That’s Breakups and Breakdowns...” Sam Dantone

It' late...

A tired man, In his prime, dying… Adding his totals, lying… To himself, He knows his worth. Bleeding, with no suture. For his cold past, he mourns. In his …

Hoping you will be there...

In fear of loves demise, I look into your eyes, hoping you will be there… Lost four years, drowned in tears, hoping you are in there… Getting old, I touch your cold, …

Birthday poem, age 34.

Officialy 30 something. A 4 no more. less than half, more than 33 1/3. Not even pie. No mile stone… Well into it now. Together we have created perfection, less this damne…

Birthday poem, age 28.

The day life begins. And for every year again. Twenty eight of them now, and such a lucky man. How? Enter this love. Swooped in like a dove. It must have all come, straight fro…

Watchlist

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