There are the drapes and the clutter, who hide behind the boxes and move like film among the wires; to the beat of Saturday while alone.
I kept hearing Grace Slick in the furthest reaches of my background memories. It was a nice sensation and wished the cafe had a sentiment, a timeline for everyone.
What to do this winter, what to investigate; I accept a linear challenge. If sleep never arrives, I will have enjoyed too many cups and full-loaded Micron.
Snowball hands or will climate change give me a tan?
Let’s imagine a student in class today who said, “I am going to stab you in your head and then shit and pee on your grave”, and me saying “OK”.
What else could I say?
The kid was angry and lost it for about 2 hours. It’s difficult not to fall into the trap, feel threatened and angry with a 10-year-old. However, I don’t, never will and kept my senses clear.
This painting is what I felt, what I knew could have happened. Another time. Another place.