I found some silence the other day.

A response.

Train to nowhere.

Away.

When opposite we are closer
As together we are far.
Is this the way it is?

Inescapable Christmas cheer.

Egon Schiele.

This guy would have made awesome album covers.

.

The drawers! The drawers!

Impromptu Glühwein.

And a new dress...

And coffee was found.

Jetlag.

Late at night.
Awake. Or early morning.
Stumbling through a dark and unknown apartment
Trying not to stir the neighbours.
And success is the need for a cup of coffee
But satisfaction in the boiling of water
For a drink of chamomile.

On your tod.

Wordplay

Gift

       You tell me that silence

is nearer to peace than poems

but if for my gift

I brought you silence

 (for I know silence)

you would say

       This is not silence

this is another poem

and you would hand it back to me.

                         - Leonard Cohen

A Kite is a Victim

Ladies and Gentleman...

http://www.nfb.ca/film/ladies_and_gentlemen_mr_leonard_cohen

We should probably talk about the boat.

Oh right, the BOAT.

Blinded by the eye

Blinded by the light

It's a turn-off

Sailing the Seven Seas. Oh God...

Thank YOU for calling

Mad Dogs and Englishmen.

Sour.

Gin and tonic
How long it has been
To see you here
On the most suburban of afternoons

Baby with a beard.

Leonard!

from The Favourite Game by Leonard Cohen

Breavman knows a girl named Shell whose ears were pierced so she could wear the long filigree earrings. The punctures festered and now she has a tiny scar in each earlobe. He discovered them behind her hair.
A bullet broke into the flesh of his father's arm as he rose out of a trench. It comforts a man with coronary thrombosis to bear a wound taken in combat.
On the right temple Breavman has a scar which Krantz bestowed with a shovel. Trouble over a snowman. Krantz wanted to use clinkers as eyes. Breavman was and still is against the use of foreign materials in the decoration of snowmen. No woollen mufflers, hats, spectacles. In the same vein he does not approve of inserting carrots in the mouths of carved pumpkins or pinning on cucumber ears.
His mother regarded her whole body as a scar grown over some earlier perfection which she sought in mirrors and windows and hub-caps.
Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.
It is easy to display a wound, the proud scars of combat. It is hard to show a pimple.

November limbo.

Always 
happens to 
come around this 
time of year.


Tries to call me.
I don't hear a thing. 
The second time I hear
but look close and ignore.


In thinking
it has gone I
slip away into a 
world of composure.
My world. Not our world.
I get remorseful in sharing
the things I hold dear.


What things?
It asks
as it
comes to 
the door. The 
things! I confront
as I throw away shy 
and just want
it to go.


I hate 
that 
it
always
happens to 
come around this
time of year.
Bringing cases 
of times
of loss
and of cheer.
We can catch up
Have a drink 
but I don't want it here.


Its friends that were our friends.
Its memories that were ours.


In November.


A house guest 
I don't want
around.

from Lonesome Traveler by Jack Kerouac

I pray on my knees so long, looking up sideways at my Christ, I suddenly wake up in a trance in the church with my knees aching and a sudden realization that I've been listening to a profound buzz in my ears that permeates throughout the church and throughout my ears and head and throughout the universe, the intrinsic silence of Purity (which is Divine). I sit in the pew quietly, rubbing my knees, the silence is roaring.- 

Do we ever know?

I don't know if what I know I have written is what you know I have written. 
You know what I've said but I know what I mean.

Dalí-esque

Forgotten drawings, now found...

Buckle up.

"Why is the vegemite at the back of the cupboard?"

Previously known as "where the hell did I put that butter knife?"

Red.

Red wine.

Red wine hangover.

Colours

Watch with Mother

Zoom in. Zoom out.

My lens is playing up.

Meow...

...Shhhhhh



Marcel Broodthaers - Interview With A Cat

If a glitch happens at just the right time, is it still a glitch?

More imaginary friends.

Album cover prospects.

What do The Kids wanna buy these days?

Kids like bands with names...

Perhaps a few hits...

Some music might be good too...

A man in a wheelchair...

...singing loudly I walk the line.

Google?

million. billion. trillion.
it's a thrillion. 
quadrillion. quintillion. 
hexillion. heptillion. 
octillion. nonillion. decillion. 
i'm undecillion.
so unodecillion or duodecillion...?

Imaginary and not-so-imaginary friends...

...But which is which?

Portrait of Chris' son with Pet Shop Boys influence (Oil pastel on board)

Portrait of Skinny looking dashing (Oil pastel on board)

Portrait of Georgia and Haley being imaginary (Oil pastel on board)

Into Great Silence

Silent, Repetitive, Rhythmic. Watch this film.
Into Great Silence (Die Groβe Stille) 2005


http://www.diegrossestille.de/english/

Tim Burton's Vincent

Toast by force

I like porridge. I really like porridge. 
But in fear of having too much of a good thing I'm seeing what things are like from a toast perspective.


Things are alright. 


I still think about porridge.