I And

I can type.
I can drink.
This water.
And this beer.
And pet this
Frog who sits
In front of
A mirror.

My desk friend

This is what you can find...

...if you live with your eyes and ears open.  Jim Oblon with drummer Steve and bassists Ian and Chris play free live music every Monday night at The Owl Shop in New Haven.  I could get all valley girl on you and say that they are seriously rad but you can tell all on your own by the video.  I am blessed to have such amazing music available to me and the great part is so are you!  Eeegads!!!

Yep

Ouch. It might be dangerous to draw your own brain.

Getting back to the brain theme...I have deduced that it might be dangerous to draw your own brain.  It sort of hurts.  And I found that it is never ending until you shut off the connection.  The first drawing, the one with the blob shapes is the basic way my brain is laid out, quite different from the other two (one, two)  I've done.  Those two people are computer programmers, very analytical, purposeful and logical.  I'm pretty much the opposite of that.  No rulers needed here...haha.  The second drawing, the color field, should be behind the blob picture but I had to do them separately.  When I went to scan the color drawing, the background, I had the urge to draw another one, then another one.  So it goes, the connection I'd made to my brain was still active and therefore changing, wanting to be drawn.  Very interesting! 

A whir

Minute twinklings,
zombies unharmful.

Hairs on a pillowcase
wash in the machine;

whirring playfully
as in a dance

from a night before
when Nantes played.

Trumpeting choral
reefs speak together

in harmony of hair
product unknown.

Sanded, glistening
chips from fossilled rock.

An un-lonely evening
still spatters my face with grin.

Owl Shop Lounge

What is so seedy
about a cigar bar
in New Haven?

The smoothly dimpled
oak leather chairs?
Or is it the amber
shadow boxes of
empty beer bottles...

smoke stack breathin'
bluesy heart chokin'
music,
        plus - business men

finally able to relax

to inhale the life
they agree with.

We all feel comfort
surrounded by vices,
our butts slowly sinking
into forty year old stuffing

and our feet firmly planted
on scuffed up pine.

Twinkles on a Birch

away

lonelyboy

explode

trumpet

Balloon

slanted

Currently