enjoy these crumbs that i scatter at my feet little ones. eat them up. there is enough for all.

herein i shall chronicle through words, photographs and various mediums of "art"



my creative process(es)...

i have been ravaged/marrow ground to the dust that drifts round the protruding ankles of decimated dry livestock brittle skeleton teeth eternally grimaced and burrowing the parched earth for sustenance.that suffocates barren sunsoaked {funny how the rock strewn nether-realm of sand heat dry slow death can be soaked in anything as if the goldenwhite light at the end of the tunnel can sate endless thirst}.that creeps up behind the eyes and down down to ensconce upon that throne {rococo the seat upon which sets the very breath of life however invariably and so unnoticed comes and goes and visits and leaves again over over over}/drowned thrashed tossed tarried by torrential downpours. flashfloods/to be given form substance the divine translation like the gold flecked tongue of peter. john. siddhartha/alluvion on the furthest brine-choked shores of consciousness where sand meets sky meets sea and all depart for whence they came after cranial tempest.nimbus aflame guiding chiding and always always disarming/at last i rest


my memories...

indelible ink blots/coffee stains {brown rings that act like scratch n sniff when you tickle them with your pinky nail.sour forbidden odours. profane yet painfully shamefully familiar and dear to heart}/scars that never heal and like kisses from branding irons continue to grow and change with you


my personal crises...

well, maybe. or maybe not.



some things i saw today that i like:


the golden evening sun
on,
the soft yet biting cold autumn breeze
through,
the morning shave stubbled calves of the mail lady as she struggled momentarily with the community mail box in front of my apartment.

a single tack, centered, patient and nostalgic, on the wall above the toilet as i made use of the aforementioned.

(thirty seconds prior) pouring the rinsemybrusheswhilepaintingcups into the sink, the ensuing combination of which looked like the remnants of a melted strawberry milkshake circling down the drain.













this is sure to be a zany zinger of trip.




ae.