2009-12-15

It'll get cheddar.

No one is here to hear me say uhh fuck, I froze the cheese again.

2009-12-13

Punday

While studying I wrote improsened when I meant to write imprisoned.

2009-12-12

Sew Duh Pop

All I want is a cola. This is a simple life.

2009-12-09

2009-12-02

This is what I'd say to someone (part 1):

"Nice jeans, my cat has whiskers like that too."

2009-12-01

Titles:

Blanking Blank Blank: Blank, Blank, Blank and Blank

OR

Blanking Blank: How Blank and Blank Blanked Blank

OR

Blanked Blanks: Blank, Blank, and Blank in a Blanked* Blank

*(probably globalized)

2009-11-28

My teabag says:

"As you dance with a loved one, steep 3-5 minutes."

2009-11-27

Between Of the Mind and On Life:

The book called Ontology is only three fingers thick.

2009-11-25

"Cars don't want to hit people" -Me, before.

I got a little bit hit by a car today; not a lot. It was more like being tapped quickly by something bigger than usual. The old woman rolled down her window with her mouth open. I said in the most cold way ever that I was okay, implying that I was right pissed, but that I still felt able to catch the next bus and didn't want to bother. She said thank you when she should have said sorry. Thank you? I really didn't do anything. I got hit by your car. You're welcome?

Things happen in threes though right? That's what people say and they usually have really great stories to back it up. Sarah got hit by a car in the summer and that really sucked. This didn't stink that much but I probably made a dumb face when it happened. And my knee hurts sort-of but no more than it hurts when I propel myself into stationary objects. Anyway, I lived with Sarah, and I have, at other times, lived with the following people: Mom, Dave, Alan, Ben, Will, Ryan, Shannon, Team Pink and Joanna (in res), Suzanne et al. (in eco house, including the girl sitting across from (but refusing to acknowledge) me (I won't bother mentioning this to her)), Kristy, Sarah-Caitlin, that Brittany girl, and Drea. Sarah and I make two, so my warning to everyone else is to look both ways at least a couple of times and assume nothing. Just to be careful/superstitious.

2009-11-15

Distracted by

A marching band, sirens, and a chorus of honks. 8 women dressed as Santa's elves going past my window. The Santa Claus parade reminds me of the year my mother must have dressed me in four layers of pants and brought me to downtown Oakville to watch the parade quickly before I had to rush to the twins' older brother's bowling birthday party. It was last minute, I think we gave him a toonie; toonies were the new thing. I was overdressed for bowling. The couple beside us at the parade were pouring coffee out from their thermos into mugs. It smelled good, my mother said. I didn't know what Irish coffee was at the time, now I know it would have been the perfect thing to keep my feet warm.

Do marching band members practice on tracks or treadmills?

2009-11-14

writing and rewriting an essay and also everything in and outside of this and every other library

Keep going. Keeping going and keeping letting go and keeping and going and always keeping and going and letting go and keeping and going. "The process of keeping...requires substitutions...to ensure growth" (Kane 3). Keep going.

2009-11-11

Snotty

I had a dream I picked my nose in his bed and put it in his sheets and in my dream he woke up and he said I had a dream you picked your nose and you put it in my sheets.

2009-11-09

Land and See

I'm happy as a lamb
A gooey filled little clam

2009-11-06

I'm the bad dream

Last night I dreamt that mentos, the freshmaker, insisted on their packaging that I must eat 5 in a row. How insignificant. Probably because my days are becoming like little tidy nightmares in the eerie and unsettling (but not completely terrible and bloody) way. See: the last post.

2009-11-04

Advils and Advice

"Marry rich, you know. Find a good husband so you don't have to worry. I plan on looking after myself. Good. Good for you. Good for you because you can think you know someone for 17 years and wake up and find out you didn't know them at all. It's good to have a companion, for what that's worth, but you've got to have your freedom. You've got to look out for yourself because no one will look out for you. Yep. Oh you're an angel. Brandy is the good stuff. I can feel my lungs clearing up already. It's true. It sucks the moisture right out of them, alcohol does. Yep. You know what's interesting about society today? They're making more cars than people are buying. I wonder what's going to happen in 2012. The world is just getting crazier and crazier. Old women who drink 2-3 ounces of brandy a day live forever, I'm telling you they do! 2-3 ounces every day."

2009-11-02

time management skills

Twice a year, twice yearly, after the time changes, I keep it the same internally though I change all my clocks and so I go about existing during two times at once. It's 11:59, but it's also 12:59, which explains why I'm so tired. I ate lunch at 11 because it was "really" 12. When (if) I travel it's not the same thing. I'm in the same darn place (my bed of course) but it's a whole new time. Light and food are the difference. It gets darker sooner and I get hungrier for breakfast earlier in the evening.

2009-10-28

Allfall

I. Last night each and every student who got off the downtown bus said thank you, or thanks, to the driver. She, almost without taking a breath, replied to each with yourwelcomeyourwelcomeyourwelcomeyourwelcomeyourwelcomeyourwelcomeyourwelcomeyourwelcomeyourwelcomeyourwelcome.

II. On our field trip to safety village a half dozen children got stung by hornets (our school mascot). The young Miss. Grewal got one on her eyelid.

III. That awful noise! Like a heaving volcano wildcat! A succession of blasts! Whistling only dogs can hear! I checked out the window to make sure it was just construction, and not the world ending, but there was no construction.

2009-10-11

Dublin, Scotland.

The trunk in my foyer immigrated with a family from a village in Scotland in 1951. It traveled with them on a small freighter with only eleven passengers. It remained in their basement at 190 Dublin St. until they moved and it was mostly forgotten. I bought the trunk for $20 at a yard sale on Suffolk street a year ago, and brought it with me to 7 Home. I kept my sweaters in it. This August I moved to 190 Dublin St. and lugged it along with me. It has been left it in my foyer to collect dust and shoes. The trunk found its way back home, after being in, at the very least, 2 places since.
It's interesting to think of who else is moving what, right now (without knowing it), to the place where it belongs.
Or maybe it's more interesting to think of what's moving who.

Lichen Love

2009-10-05

Losing it and finding it frozen.

I couldn't find the cheese. I could swear that I hadn't eaten it all. I looked everywhere. In the butter drawer. In the fruit crisper. Behind the hummus. Even in the couscous. Gone. Unless, unless, for the second time in one month I froze the cheese. I looked in the freezer. Hard-as-rock goat's milk cheese. It seems, indeed it seems, my head isn't always in control. I swore at myself with the big one, the f-word, and proceeded to use the biggest knife in the house to angrily cut the frozen block into icy bite-sized pieces for my lunch.

2009-10-03

A/in front



There's no use photographing profiles of pictures.

2009-09-25

One, Two,

Three: The number of glasses of wine--after a light mid-afternoon dinner--it takes for the thought to cross my mind that I can dance like B. to Jay.

Shape Shifters

When, physically, socially, mentally or emotionally, one gets under some sort of stress, one might imagine a better position/location for their body to be in at that time, which may in some way be soothing, or comforting. However, and unfortunately, social codes (and probably evolutionary instincts) tell us it is inappropriate to curl up into a ball in line in the cafeteria to relieve gas. It's not right to face the corner at a bar. It would be alarming to see a young woman lying next to her bike in a grassy knoll between a parking lot and apartment complex, would it not? Imagine all the positions you imagine yourself taking to feel better. Imagine everyone in the positions that they, on whatever occasion for whatever reason, picture themselves in. Weddings might be crowded with people under tables and rested foreheads in palms with elbows on knees. Bodies everywhere would be sprawled, tucked, extended, curled, cuddled, and hidden. In the privacy of one's own home, one's limbs become less controlled, his or her spine bends and twists more naturally. It would not at all be unreasonable to suppose that sometimes people's feet touch heads, or maybe one's hands are simply much more often resting under or on his/her buttocks, stomach, or breasts. These imagined public and real private positions are, in a way, the most vulnerable forms our body can take. It is interesting that, in another way, these are our most comfortable, or perhaps even our favourite, shapes for ourselves.

2009-09-21

Identity Crisis/ My "art" stinks, but is a little bit funny, at least I think so

This that isn’t yet a collage is a mostly blank canvas with clippings I took out of National Geographic magazines. What little is on it could appear either falling down, or, floating up. It’s hard to tell and it depends on how I orient my pins. I prefer them falling down. It's half a drawn man, a basketball player, two walruses, two of the same small and obscured images of that Canadian artist who takes photographs of herself dancing (I totally forget her name), and a mouse. What does this say about me? Who am I? This canvas is ugly. Thank goodness I didn't use glue.

2009-09-19

Coffee Exclamation Point

I couldn’t be happier that I found a coffee grinder yesterday. I had looked in 3 other places, and not one had one for under 22 dollars, and I thought that was a little too much to spend, at least right now. I found one for 13 dollars when I wasn’t even looking. The cord rolls up into it and everything. A steal, you might say. The woman at the counter said, Ah, there’s nothing like the smell of fresh ground coffee. It never even does taste as good as it smells... Do you notice that? I said maybe, but that it isn’t good enough to just smell it anyway. I took it home and made a pot and noted that every bit of it delighted me equally. The very nice cashier was absolutely wrong.

2009-09-18

Over easy yoke

People jogging should be morally obligated to write "Jogging" in big bold letters on the backs of their shirts. Is the woman "jogging" past my window with the stroller just jogging, or slowly running away from someone trying to steal her baby? This would be good for society to know. Maybe I could have helped.

2009-09-03

Two heads worse than one

Sarah and I decide to write a story together, January 30th, 2009. Our ideas (we didn't roll with any of them):

The tiny diamond around your pale freckled neck. Where’d it come from?

Japanese paper lanterns

K, so it’s a story.

About

A man

Who can only ever draw things with his eyes closed, with astounding accuracy, mind you.

He’s also a priest.
Protestant.

In the thirties.

And get this...
Wait it’s the twenties.

He
He falls in love with a cabaret dancer who comes to confess her sins which are numerous and terrible.

His name is Joaquin

He draws pictures of the women and, here’s the catch, he can only draw with his eyes closed.

Something like: He draws her (he’s never seen her) with his eyes closed and it turns out she’s beautiful.
Also, she is a bona fide angel.
Bona fide!

A grandmother, spicy, all out of legs. Sold the last pair. Used to work in hosiery at sears. She floats. And, as it turns out, she’s an angel...

Grandfather-aged man, second ww. Drinks gin, hidden in his left boot, which he keeps by the front door. His boot is more often off then on, his cup as often filled as emptied. Father of a goat, whom he had when he was married to an ogre of a woman.
It was a curse, that’s why he’s got the goat.

Field Coyote

Youth Subcultures in the praries spraypaint their wheat. See: Fruitloops.

Church Organs

Brass, expansiveness and the things that go on at night, keys.

Barnacles.

Pulling things out from under your skin.

2009-08-10

I got myself a fortune cookie for each day of the week

Monday: Apparently, my graceful qualities make difficult things seem easy. Sounds more like a statement than a fortune, and not particularly true for myself, age 21. Perhaps it's in my future. If I had a wallet I'd save it in there for then, when (hopefully) it will be uncanny, too true.

2009-08-07

Conveniently, draft autosaved at 7:11 PM.

Plates and cups are big these days but they can't be that big, and even all you can eat closes before, or sometime not too late after midnight. Cigars don't really last all that much longer when you snip them in half and smoke twice. Hot water turns cold and rivers run dry (or flood). The biggest books have only one last page.

"Ah, all good things..." he said, only implying the rest, leaving unsaid, "...must come to an end." Whether referring to the plate of onion bhajias or whatever else, I couldn't agree more. But it's true about bad things too. All bad things do too. Come to an end, I mean. And so everything, especially comedy, especially tragedy, especially everything, has got to be about timing--the last of the zig-zagging five dub-yaws.

2009-07-12

Flatty


The voice inside my head speaks up (too late and completely condescending, as usual) and says, "Would you eat soup with a tire lever?" and responds, "No you wouldn't, would you?"

2009-07-10

2009-07-06

Good news in the globe and mail

Imagine the first moments of your life are a slide down your mother's pant leg, into a net created by her elastic bottomed sweats. For you, the birth canal is a 28" inseam longer than for most. Your proud dad, standing at the bottom of the stairs, sees it all happen through thick heather grey cotton.

2009-06-29

See through the second story


I've got too much of something that makes me think watching "real life" families on T.V. is strange, but not too much of whatever that is to stop me from watching real life families (commercial free) through their decal stickered (currently butterflies) windows. Whether or not that was the back or front of that man's head, I'll never know. Either way I won the staring contest.

2009-06-24

Still Life

Some are born still, others achieve stillness, and some have stillness thrust upon them.

2009-06-21

I don't know about you, but I say potato.

This is a pretty good potato salad. For mine I replaced the peppers with radishes and didn't read the ingredients or the directions for any of it. There's halfuh lemon (including the pith, minus the peel, including the seeds) in the sauce, as well as olive oil (pff fat free). Still, anyway, certainly edible and registering an audible blip on the delicious scale. It definitely wouldn't be everyone's cup of tea, mind you, nor is it mine; like I said, it is a pretty good potato salad.

2009-06-20

nonetheless

That idea didn't pan out.

Run Home Jack, Run Home.

Maybe just for the sake of being funny, I'd like to crochet today while watching hook.

2009-06-14

A sacred shape with the texture of flesh


What is the future going to think about all the old people with triangles tattooed on them? Inky monuments to pyramid mysticism fostered by camel cigarette packs, the dollar bill, and popular album art. Idols on ourselves, everlasting for 83.86 years.

What fun it is to learn about mysteries.

2009-06-03

So Totally Hammered

As I'm hammering nails backwards out of boards I'm having the sorts of thoughts Drea calls poison. My mind wanders into grim territory and off of the task at hand. Sure enough, my Papa's words crash upon my thumb and I get "given something that really hurts." Some blood and a purple mound; physical evidence of physical pain. Taylor and Omar so kindly wince and assure me that it will only feel worse later and Taylor promises me that the antibacterial spray that stings like a bugger won't hurt one bit.

And now I hold my thumb sticking out like it's a sore one. But already, contrary to the lot of liars who warned me that pain would travel up my arm and make my hand fall heavy, my thumb is feeling better. And I can get on quite well with my day, a day which is a particularly special day, occurring only this and every single Wednesday, a day ushered in by ridiculous song at 11 am: Lynn Day.

2009-05-24

Celebration on a stick


While some seasons are determined by a groundhog, the sun and when it sets, or something as arbitrary as a school year, today marks the first day of summer pour moi. The smell of my deodorant (calendula with hops) just made me thirsty. No pants. No stockinged feet. Plans to go places just for the getting there. Our neighbours, in bonnets and caps, are naked again. The house is nearly full, but always empty. Ah, but maybe not yet. Maybe not quite yet. My feet are still dry.

2009-05-08

Expect/accept magic




If things turn out like this, that's okay. If they turn out better, even better.

(Only my mom reads this, but just in case someone else does (not that my mom isn't the most perfect audience, though I can't write about all the really hard and terribly addictive drugs that I do...) then I should write a reminder about our house show here tomorrow at 8 or so)

2009-05-01

Lingering showers

Tonight I will lie in bed with the cat, open the window, and finish The Winter of our Discontent.

2009-04-25

Add insult to injury

I prefer short books. 150-200 pages will do. If not because the words in them seem more carefully chosen, then at least because when I'm moving them, if they fall on my toes, they won't cause terrible throbbing and a small (but impressive) dollop of blood.

2009-04-22

Tick tock

I lifted out the ladder and brought it to the big clock that had been lying to me all week. 2, it said--from the minute I started work 'til when I finished--2. We gave it a new battery and I carried it back up the ladder and attached it to the wall and waited looking at it for 3 minutes to see if a minute would go by. It didn't. We threw out the clock.

2009-04-15

Here here

Here-
I go again.
Here I go again.
Here I go.

I'm going to get there.
I'm going-
to get there.

Down Under

Koala
To see a koala in your dream, represents your link the physical world, the unconscious, and the spiritual realm. The koala also symbolizes security, nurturance, protection, and/or feminine qualities. You may be expressing a desire to regress back into infantile dependence and escape from your daily responsibilities/problems.
-Dreammoods.com

2009-04-14

Sheets and sheets

How to Cover-Up:
Put something over top or
Do something else quickly after

2009-04-12

A typo at 2:41 a.m

ogodnight.

2009-04-07

Ai yi yi

Self diagnosed with near and hind-sightedness.

2009-04-01

This time last year

Very different and very much the same.

Oh brother.

Busy time of year

To do:
-Get it together
-Keep it together

2009-03-30

1913-2009.





Levitt, Levitt. What is there to do? What can you do?

2009-03-24

Balance (we won't know)

Things that bother me these days:
Everything

Things that I'm excited about these days:
Lots

2009-03-23

Straight Forward

The proof is in the pudding: work is multiplying like loaves of bread. And everything takes forever. Contrary to complaining, and contrary to being contrary to complaining, this is it. This, not that. That's impossible. I want to get so good at grammar so that I don’t have to be so good anymore, so that the unintentional seems premeditated. I’ll only have to say, “Precisely.”

In about a month we’ll have a yard sale and I’ll title a post Everything Must Go and tell you when and what goodies there will be. It won’t be so melancholy as the song of the same name, and in fact I can almost guarantee that there will be joyful music and a pink dress for sale that I just couldn’t figure out how to wear. But maybe I’ll just keep it, maybe this is its year.

Oh and I’m tired. It’s late. I was up early.

2009-03-19

A misunderstanding (or not) between two (music) lovers.

You know, all I want is you?

Yeah, I like you too.

(Get it? How novel, a joke.)

Just Can't Not

At the most inopportune moments--to the most heartbreaking songs--I just can't not dance.

2009-03-16

The # 7, St. Joseph's

The words to the tune that the bus driver whistled from the downtown square to just before my stop:
I'd rather be a forest than a street
Yes I would, if I could, I surely would
I'd rather feel the earth beneath my feet
Yes I would, if I only could, I surely would

2009-03-15

Big lion yawns after a Sunday with almost everything in it


Pajamas just aren’t desperate enough, neither is brushing your teeth, and taking out your contacts only is if you pour yesterday's leftover solution into the old wine glass next to your bed. Sleep, like other things, ought to be desperate sometimes. At 4 when you wake up because you hear the pipes stir, that’s when you unbutton your pants and tear away your undergarments, not ‘til then. You’ll sleep through it when everyone makes a cinnamon scented breakfast and when each person unearths his/her coat from the mound, ever growing, right above your room. Kind of like being so thirsty that you don’t even mind if the water misses your mouth. Sleep should be like that, sometimes.

And sometimes sleep should linger into the morning and early afternoon even when you don’t need it. When you’ve had too much of it and it has closed your eyes again, let it. Turn off the clock radio, right off so it won’t just try again. Lay there. Build a need for the day. Then eventually get up and go out. Seize it, right? Yeah? Carpe diem? Yeah. You did O.K. Not bad.

Today's similies

Writing is like a big long game of scrabble.
Being rejected is like growing out your hair.

2009-03-11

Purely Polyester

Here, let me get that for you. You’ve got irony dripping from your mustache.

2009-03-09

Leave well enough alone

Don't pick scabs. Don't flick picked scabs into the air. Flicked scabs will land, the way things flicked into the air tend to. If the flicked scab sticks to a foot, someone will know it was you. You, the person nursing an open wound.

2009-03-08

Justice

I killed all the spiders and now I've got a buzzing house fly.

2009-03-04

Tempura

2009-02-28

Since I've smelt sweet grass

Will your house guests forget their whiskey behind the chair?
Will your house guests to forget their whiskey behind the chair.

2009-02-24

Bulk Barn/treeplanting/by the lb sweaters/cake/booze/life rule of thumb

Take lots when it's/they're light and take less when it's/they're heavy. The heavy things are often more valuable anyway, like cashews and wool.

2009-02-22

Right here.

Nothing is neither here nor there, because it is all right here.

I need to stop pouting when I don’t get what I want when what I want is to be two opposite things, like dry and wet, all at once. On a whim and out of nowhere, all of a sudden I want to be wholly wrapped around by arms, then also, and at the same time, I want only to be surrounded in something limbless and less fleshy, like water. I want to ask questions that I don’t want to hear the answers to that I want to know the answers to. I want to be filled and I want to be hungry. But I need to quit it.

It's alright here.

2009-02-13

Stinker

Dilemma

I started imagining that the pickles I was eating were not pickled pickles, but pickled sea-creatures. I stopped eating pickles.

2009-02-12

Level with me

Holding a 6 pack, seeing that I just missed the number 7, I went to sit on a bench in the Quebec st. mall next to a boy and his mother or grandmother. The boy likes candy a lot, and we have a conversation about candy versus chocolate. I say candy is too sticky, and he says that I probably eat chocolate forever. The boy points to various parts of his body and his coat and says "Sticky here, sticky here, sticky here." He's trying to tell me that because he eats candy "all day long" he gets sticky all over his clothes. I'm sympathetic towards his mother, who does his laundry, and she gives me a smile. The boy and me both missed the bus. He asked me why, and I said because I was too slow, and the boy says because "the bus was too fast." The boy is on his way to the emcia, and when I look puzzled he repeats it for me, "The emcia, the emcia, Barbarack." His mother stops reading to explain that he's going to the YMCA. He has a friend there, Barbarack, and Barbarack and him have ideas, and something about helicopters and fighting. He asks me what I'm going to do. I tell him I'm going to go home and make a sandwich and read. He asks me why I'm going to do that, but I don't have a good answer. He keeps looking at the beers I'm holding, and I wonder if he knows the truth. What I'm really going to do is go home, make coffee, and watch Twin Peaks spoofs on youtube. He's got a bandage on his finger and I ask him about his ouchie. He gives me a sheepish smile. His mother tells me he wears the bandage because he sucks his finger. He puts both his fingers out to compare and I do the same and we look at them. Then he puts his fingers between the slats in the bench and says something about hammering. As though I am stupid, I ask, "They hammer this together?" But apparently not, I've missed the point, and he goes on to tell me, in words I don't understand, something about the construction of the bench. He looks at my beer and he looks at me. I point outside and ask him where all the snow went and he laughs at me and tells me I am funny. He says, very seriously, it went away on his head.

2009-02-05

2009-01-29

In the mean time.

Did you do that? Never mind. Doesn't matter. You're capable of that, that's what's important. You could if you wanted to. You just don't feel like it. One day. You'll get around to it one day, that's what matters. You strike me as someone who already has, but that's okay, I see that you will. You strike me as someone who will. You've got a lot on your plate right now. You've got things to take care of. You've got a family. A cat. A room in a house. You've got to go to your two thirty class. You just had a big breakfast. For now, just don't worry about it.

2009-01-23

Unlikely findings of things sort of like wisdom

1. Nothing changes if nothing changes.
2. Liquor before beer.
3. That's fine. But what do you want?
4. Just a little bit of cornstarch, you know, not too much.
5. It's okay to take some time.
6. If you put soy milk in a frying pan on high heat expect it to over boil.
7. If you put soy milk in a frying pan on high heat and then make a phone call you're just asking for it.
8. Clean up after the messes you make.
9. When people say "It can't hurt to talk about it" they are probably lying and what they really mean is "It can't hurt as bad as childbirth to talk about it."

2009-01-18

I like space



Seems I am done dreaming of new year(')s. I did dream of a bike trip, but my back wheel was off an office chair, and not until the boy in blue underpants pointed that out to me, did that slow me down. Friendly about the whole thing, the boy told me about my bike, the cadet, and said that it was a real good bike, nice and light. To me it was just red, and now, red with a bum wheel.

I'm pretending to read Freud for one of my classes. For no reason, other than as a whopping metaphor for the short story, we are reading the Interpretation of Dreams. For the short story you can apply words like condensation and displacement. I get it. I've seen enough of the words already to know what Freud would have to say about my dreams. Something like, "You perv."

2009-01-16

To the dear world,
I did not find you so interesting four hours ago. But now, fairly I can say, I am mesmerized by you. So, thanks. Quite honestly, actually, I believe I am quite lucky, privileged, honoured even, that everything good, brilliant, inspiring, delicate, and terrifying, decided to convene in our living room. “Holy shit fuck you”, were actually the curse words in my head, to properly describe how angry I felt at your goodness. The noise you made left everything I had to say just, dumb. So, thanks. I am mesmerized by you. You live here, or just south of here, or slightly north, but either way, there was nothing I did to deserve that, all that, so, thanks.
Truly,
yours.

Lion in a coma.

The cat comes and listens and looks for a way to get through the ceiling which I jam shut with an art history textbook and notes. Make it through flying buttresses and barrel vaulted arches and then fine, go on up there, I mean sure, the worst that could happen to you (moon baby) is that you come back down a little dirtier than before. But you (moon baby) just sit on my desk and look up at what’s blocking you and then go to the kitchen and ask for other attention and wander. The good news is that you (moon baby) are cuddly. The bad news is that you (moon baby) are just a little bit stuck to where you are allowed to go.

2009-01-07

The Story of Dick Proenneke

Dead calm and zero degrees.

2009-01-04

STNBK

A shy mystic.

2009-01-02

Hid in the skin



People are like the artwork they like. That’s why everyone keeps it a secret that they like Norman Rockwell. Deep down everyone is wholesome and ugly.