The sleeping world, and the end of the thoughts. What are we? What am I? These words are paintings of thoughts, of just that, of just there, of voices inside of our heads. Two days, gone. Today, gone. Still, gone. Writing brings back the insanity that I wish I still suffered from. In the basement with black and white… Continue reading What are we?
What a great few days seeing some old friends, their children, walking into their life after so many years, meeting their new friends, making new arcs and families. What great people I know. I'm proud of the adults they've transformed into. Searching, walking, growing, picking up where time left off, and I wish I lived… Continue reading Last Page of my summer Notebook
Doing a little recap tonight. Hand picking some personal markers, because I'm going on a two week adventure and reading tour at sunbreak. So sorry if I flood the stream with my writing rocks. All this will soon be over, I promise. Not Words Just adventures in New Machine and paper things.
(B). The first writing I posted. Where the adventure started. ha! I mean picked up. Thats my sword, an old letter opener. I also have pens that I call knifes. ha. anyway...read where I started bleeding my art, my friend, my foe, my teacher, my eyes, my fiction and kinda fiction, dreams and mares, my… Continue reading (B)
Who's there? Nobody. Just my thoughts. WAKE UP. Ok, I'm up. Stretch, some toast and oats and milk, and standing, writing, and WAKE UP. I'm up. What time is it? It's right now. What's the score? Huh? How do you feel? My back hurts from so many days sitting down. Alive? Yes, I guess. … Continue reading He’s dead. (I think)