17.4.11


Bear was a white guy, w/ green eyes on the red path.

20- years on, Counting Crows happened to be in the air at the shop + i remembered back to the evening of the concert. The street around Bimbo’s in SF was packed as we neared the club. Our search + the improbability of finding a parking spot had him monologging a mantra,  … she stomps out of the diner… her runs after her… she says take me home angrily… he stomps off to the car… he revved the engine… they pull out... there is still two bucks on the meter…  Inside a circus. A curious blond mop of hair eats the microphone. It had a great beat + you could dance to it. i sat rolling cigarettes poorly, but still smokeable, wondering if the show on or off the stage was best.

i tend to personify everything. Everything from lint to car engines. A bit like listening to a foreign language + pulling out what sounds like English to understand it. — Not interested in drawing it unless the subject breathes. i am no background story boarder. Another one of those, if i wake up + am it, great. However, i would not want to study for years to be it.

Too bad.
Not enough time.
Messages found written in the unfinished.

Honestly, is there any difference in a costumer and a bag lady?

Remember Jayne, do not get dead lining mixed with flat lining. -LH

7 comments:

  1. the truth is plain contradiction...nice really like that stanza...

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  2. Seems like life is one long message found written in the unfinished, until it is.

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  3. Bag ladie's treasures don't have to fit inflate-able egos.

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  4. You bring up ....
    hugging inflate-able egos? ox

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  5. bag ladies are costumiers of the highest form

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  6. Or worse - doing a fitting of a pastry sack with dual inflatables!

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