Jul
1
the opossum whisperer.
the opossum whisperer.
i still exist.
and for good measure. me and billy the kid.
i neglect the internet now. working on a sailboat sucks time away from technology.
here is an antique flame thrower gnomes and gin.
soon there will be the voodoo king.
we found some pretty flowers. he dared me to eat one. so i did.
me and my brother in portland. i am drinking some sort of tea and he is eating some sort of himalayan meat plate. laying on the asphalt during the gay pride day festivities.
it is 11 a.m. in portland oregon. my new york brain thinks it is 2 p.m.
so i am drinking left over willamette valley wine in my hotel room. typing up art installation proposals. looking out windows and staring down volcanos. waiting for my brother to pick me up and bring me into the north west forrest to shoot tin cans with pistols. then crab sandwiches and pbr picnics under portland pine trees.
i saw this man sing last night and it was so amazing i cried.
what’s wrong with this? it is june and i was comfortable in a jacket and scarf.
my hero.