Monsieur, you are staid, professional, solid enough; quiet, muted.
Yet you are a wild man.
When you strip your clothes, the frenzy begins. How can such passion hide under a veneer smooth as the pin stripes in a suit?
I remember, and am awakening. Erotic energy rises like smoldering bush fire. In your absence.
For you are not here, only there.
Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.
Some photos and little vids from Thanksgiving up north
Hope you had an enjoyable Thanksgiving! With beautiful, warm weather this year, had a wonderful day with family up north. And, yay! - I also...
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Basquiat at the AGO: An Untitled Portrait When asked about his frequent use of "carbon" (tar, asbestos), Basquiat shot back, ... -
Pablo Valdivia, Breathing Underwater translated from the Spanish by Ross Woods Guernica Editions, Fall 2014 102 pages Trade Paperback... -
direct link: The Dancer's Backskin An accidental drawing - in a new Moleskine notebook, I brushed water over watercolour pencil. The ...
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