And while no, it is not the worst thing of things that, as Chuck Jone does for the coyote, few care no more for the enchantment, we were meant to, in that being and seeming pooled into miasma to dip the pen, from here, begin
Oil on Canvas
Wednesday, October 14, 2026
wide hand hip hold
sleeping soft and awake once more and in between is it you I knew to always meet the yes reduced to such and such expanse unfixed for love of fathom, at the clasp
Tuesday, October 13, 2026
Monday, October 12, 2026
Bis du dann noch
Three minutes of Chinese Roulette and I speak German, for a second time, again. Not that I know what any of it means. As for. Days in painted silences without belonging to the field. The question of the sexual carrel. Choose yours. No woman an island. A seduction of self into self. Mien.
Friday, October 9, 2026
dior swimsuit mirror
I thought Rachel Cusk had said she'd reached the end of the English sentence. I guess not. modern society, its limerances, the resolutions of the concussed void. The apostate's awareness. In my smile the mother's smile. As simple as.
Thursday, October 8, 2026
pollock-krasner
I was in the grace of thingliness, I was in the breaming The sea Lifting not to hear
neither there, nor in a forgotten for
this flapping
tail to hull
the ascending body, an application myrrh myrrh
our scent, search poised to form, he tells me
Marden's last look at
Saint Jack
of mobile bild, a way
Forward, the line at the base of the ark are you bent
writing into line eternal
end facing Fuentes, Proust we wish to know no whelm
to walk, as you do, on
Mer mer