Saturday, March 21, 2009


Oh yes we can.

It's 12:45. Mid-afternoon sun is out too long. School. Standing on the other side of the bridge, you look back and wonder whether you'll have to hold your breath to get back to where you started. faded

im ok.

one of those slimy days, when you think you're withered and transparent and people treat you like an epitaph, like a puddle of slush, like a pool of dust; when you begin to see 'worry' in your tea and you stand aside and breathe, while everyone else is running that inexplicable race.



skinny legs and a beer belly
and some more...



Just kept sketching faces one afternoon. This is all about the little old man. One of those unrare days where you feel like you came out of a tattered history book. But I think he's a happy man, I think he's lonely, maybe even self-amusing. I like this guy.