Posts tagged ‘art’

Social Distancing Blues in A

and so we’re in the thick of it now.  wild stuff is running rampant here, there, and everywhere!  it’s Saturday night in the slab and we’re following Doc Spook’s advice: when in like this, enjoy good vins and good cooking!  so i am cooking and the vin is closing in on room temperature.  while we wait for that to happen an IPA from England lights the way!

truth is: i’m not much of a cook.  i always do it Rez style, and i’m talking back woods Rez style, back woods like down by McBean Harbour in Sagamok style.  there AIN’T no flash to what we’re cooking.  but i fancy it in day dreams.  when we’re out there on the open range in sweet home sweet home, back on the Manitou River, down there on the Range, things are different as we’re usually in the company of some very exotic and beautiful ladies in bikinis: and so!  the cooking has to be classic show bizz style.

you better put the headphones on for this one:

that trick with the egg flying and the spat:  i need to learn that one!  mind you:  what we’re doing in our kitchen tonight is baby shit along side what this dude is doing.

and so it is Saturday night: we’re in, where we are hopefully safe.  the cooking is on going.  the vin is.

this is super social distancing!

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out there on the streets of O Town:  one morning on the walk to work last week:  the flipping streets were empty save for this black bra.  it was empty too as you can see. how long it’d been there i don’t know but it wasn’t there the day before…

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Power Bird with Medicine Bundle, acrylic on canvas board, 16×20 inches, by anishnabe artist and ruthless wild man:  Mark Seabrook.  (experimenting with new paints…  )

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Calling Up the Almighty:  Assist. various inks on wood panel, 11×14 inches, by anishnabe artist and exotic dancer:  Mark Seabrook.  while we fuss with the new paint selections, there is room to go back to the good old days.  i’d be one for visiting them!

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“Man Changing Into a Thunderbird, panel 1, in reverse”, cheap acrylic paint, various inks, on 1990 issue paper, hard cover repurposed book, Found Poetry Book 5, a work in progress, by anishnabe artist and brutal savage:  Mark Seabrook.  while we’re waiting for paint to dry, we can muddle over what some folks have said to us, me in partic, anywhere along our way.  those “some folks” do not like us!  and they do not like me and my ways of savagery.  to them it is evil and bad.  to me its another day at the office, here in Canada.

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“Writing on the Wall…”, cheap acrylic paint and various inks on 1990 issue paper, hard cover repurposed book, Found Poetry Book 5.  if you ascertain my meaning…

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the guitar is always there, waiting for us.  anyone can pick it up.  (my old buddy Carlos said that!)  and so while we ride out the storm, this Yamaha  FG-345 ii that i scammed out of a pawn shop over there on Montreal Road will assist in the to and from.  i’m an old school guitar player who liked to record on a Fostex.  this Garage Band stuff on board the mac book isn’t like the old school “cassette tape” that i know and love.

recording on said Fostex.  that’s me on the 12 string, one Sunday morning many moons ago.  you can hear Shag in the back ground at the beginning, he’s in the kitchen cooking up breakfast.  but that is also him on the background vocal.  if you do listen to it:  BE WARNED:  coarse language and sexual content. (best to put the headphones on for this one…  )

ah yes.  the Fostex.  a 4 track recorder great for on the spot song writing for old timers like me.  i really like those 12 string notes at 45 seconds into this recording.  i took the song into the No Reservations rehearsal hall but the boys rejected it, saying it was too camp fire.

i on the other hand think its an awesome snap shot of “one of those days”, back when we were a lot younger, when 201 was one of the coolest spots and…  this one though was recorded at the corner of Simcoe and what do you call it, over there in N’Swakamok.

“What to do on Sunday Afternoon” was written and recorded and performed by yours truly!  i just made it up on the spot using Shag’s 12 string.

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how grand it would be if Shag and the boys came over to my place and we ran through some of those old No Rez selections and booted around the idea of recording those other 12 songs we had in the hopper.  the world needs to hear things like:  The Creator Song.  Broken Home.  Thunderbird.  Red Doggg Blues.  You Had Me But I didn’t Have You.  Concrete Shoes Love.  Baby You’re a Crocodile.  Bats With Wings.  That Night in the Byway.  and one of my personal faves that we only played in the club:  Drive In Theatre: We Actually Watched the Movie…

we’re still cooking, 2.5 hours in.  i think the vin has arrived at room temp., so my thing is this:  why wait till later?

or as my dad would say:  Why take any chances?

more fun cooking vids from one of my fave movies:

Be safe!  Stay out of trouble!  And don’t get yourself killed, or worse!

Many thanks and hope to hear from you soon!

 

Holy Wowza!!!

i hope you’re reading this!  if so, we’re still in the game!  gosh times have gotten very weird here in the capital city with all the spooky goings on.  we’re not in la la land now, and so we should see many strange things.

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Montreal Road and Bradley, Vanier, Ontario, 850 a.m., this morning: normally this street at that hour is an insane runway filled to the brim with mad and barely qualified drivers.  if you want to watch an exercise in psychopathy: this is the place but be warned:  stand back.  the speed limit is 50 km but none of the savages pay any attention that.  today though…  the road was empty!

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boiling up a gallon of lemon and ginger tea: i had that stuff in the hopper all day, zipping and reading:

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the twinravens reading list for spring, 2020.  that book: The Inconvenient Indian, is an amusing read, but being one of “them”, there is only so much of that one a fella like me can read at one time.  good thing the Vincent Van Gogh book isn’t too far away.  and can someone please tell me wtff is up with James Joyce and A Portrait of the Artist As a Young Man…

The Power of Art and The Visual Dialogue are “toothy” reads…

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and speaking of FUN reads (and a great way to cool those anxious heels (ha!), some art making and art therapy is always a great way and time for saving souls):  the found poetry book in progress is filled with fun tales and beautiful pictures created by Yours Truly!  here is an absolute gem:

That Weekend At the Cottage

fearing the sleepless hours to come, lurking somewhere out there in the darkness…

The evening air had cooled to the perfect temperature for dinner with friends.  It was a night for sex, long and slow under the stars with the scent of lavender drifting into the windows and night sparrows chirping in the trees.  I used to know what it was like to be in love, she thought, I used to know that sweet aching need for one man.  But she could no longer remember it.  She could see it, could picture it, but the emotion was gone from her body…

The End.

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Rider on the Storms, various black inks on wood panel, 8×10 inches, by anishnabe artist Mark Seabrook.  Created fresh just the other day!  We ship anywhere!  Email me if you would like to purchase this piece.

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that was nice of them!  i’d like to think an original Mark Seabrook acrylic on canvas in any of my styles could brighten up your day!

super switching gears and art styles:

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spooky!  i’m always on the look out for something to create in general issue black and white.  this afternoon while on the snoop i stumbled across this who ever’s nice work.  i like what they have happening in the back ground as well.

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spooky!  i got to thinking about this one as a starting point for something with an indigenous “twang”.  that indian accent.  that indio rez slang.  (good thing the weekend will soon be here!)

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we’re going here, this weekend,  but we’re going to switch out good old Boney for something more like this:

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Hell On Earth, Indian Residential School, acrylic on canvas board, 7×9 inches, by anishnabe artist Mark Seabrook.

i think we need to boot this one up to fit that flashy 8×10 inch frame i have here in the living room, the frame at present: is empty.  let’s see what can be done come Saturday.

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one more love story:

Indian Summer

She laughed.  “Of course, yes.  That is what I mean.  I fell in love.”

they watched one another for a long moment.  Oh, to see the world with innocent eyes.

When they finally spoke, her voice sounded different, younger and softer than before.

“You are the first person I ever told this to,” she said in a quiet voice.  Her black hair fell across her cheeks.  Slowly, her dark eyes found his.  She was naked.  

“Do you understand?” she whispered.

“Will you make me say it?”  she whispered.

She pulled him forward.  She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, slid her legs around his waist.

“Fill me with fire again,” she breathed.

his bed creaked.  Of course she was gone.  He remembered the thrill he felt as her tanned arms slid around him…

The End.

let’s walk our way through this wilderness of wild times!  and of course enjoy good wines and good conversations with those we are locked in with.

 

Rolling up on March Break

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Power Bird at New Moon, acrylic on canvas board, 16×20 inches.  $350, unframed.  We ship anywhere!  Brand new work by Anishnabe artist Mark Seabrook.

Life is getting WEIRD out there, on the streets, at least where I am, and if they ask me I tell them:  we have to hang in there, warmer climes will soon be here.

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Saw this the other day and thought yes…  That could almost be a t shirt.  I could wear that  down the streets where I am and maybe…  (It is a wild world out there right now.)

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Saw this one too, the other day and thought wow:  You folks over the wire are reading my mind!  The cottage I want is a cool 400 G’s so I better get busy and makes some $$$!

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Saw this one as well and was attracted to it for two reasons:  1)  Yes.  At some point in time we’re all going to be dust and bones so forget about it.  Go easy.  Have a good time.  And B)  That is a super cool visual, love the look of it.  Now if that were a 30×30 on gallery canvas I’d be asking the vendor how much?  And do you take cash?

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Speaking of vendor:  that is the twinravens.com road show at the York U. pow wow on Saturday, March 7th.  The face masks were out in full force at that one!

York U. put on a great pow wow!  I’ve been on the pow wow trail since 1988!  The Raven, est. 1988, has been here and there over the years and hopefully will be coming out of retirement this summer as we’re entering in…  (yikes!) The Golden Age category.  Gosh.  That was fast!

But I digress:  at the pow, they had their usual exhibition dances and the one that caught my attention was the women’s traditional dance.  There was a young gal there, if I had to guess, 12 or 13 years old, and not wearing the traditional dance regalia you usually see in that exhibition dance.  I watched and it was perfectly clear she knew what she was doing, carrying the ceremonial items in both hands, and standing out for two reasons:  1) she was much younger than the rest of them, to the tune of at least 35 years, and not wearing the regalia of that particular exhibition dance.  And B) her moves were unlike the others and quite unlike anything I’d seen before.

Very interesting.  I got to wondering where she was from but I soon found out as they had the Big 6 crew on hand for an exhibition song where they used the drum that comes from their part of the country.  That young gal got up and danced those songs and for first few, she was the only one up there, going counter clock in the dance arena, and let me tell you those steps she was using: never in my pow days have I seen anything like it.

Pretty soon a Jingle Dress dancer got in there and she was using the Big 6 step that I’d seen for the first time last summer, over there in the mighty Akwesasne.

So yes!  Cultural revival, cultural reclamation, and above all:  Resistance.  A fella like me can see that every now and again and let me tell you seeing that young gal working her original dances and authentic moves really made that trip to the York U. pow something special for me.

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Resistance.  Powerful.  Authentic.  Not Colonized.  twinravens.com t shirt on the main streets of Unionville, Ontario, Sunday afternoon, March 8th.  Turns out those t shirts were a good idea.

 

February 29th

so much drama in the news these days!  while waiting for paint to dry:  so many strange things coming in over the wire:

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can’t open a cell phone without seeing “stuff”.  WILD stuff…

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made a late night drive to Toronto, as always, listening to CBC, and this one came on and holy SHOOT!  Pat said a few things in this show, good authentic gravy i thought she was talking about me…   (i had to pull over and make a phone call!!!)

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pop up art show:  on the corner of McCaul and Dundas, Toronto, Ontario, Canada.  24×36 inches on gallery canvas.  my Stevenson paint getting lower and lower…

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safely in the gallery on Dundas, across from the AGO.  that is a John Laford hanging with the twinravens.com.

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on Dundas W., Toronto:  everywhere you go these days!  and i’m not talking about Snoop!

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medicine bowl, at the corner of Rideau and Sussex, Monday afternoon, Feb. 24th:  protest/rally, downtown.  they had the hand drums there as well.

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signage at the rally/protest on Monday afternoon, corner of Sussex and Rideau.

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INSANE cbc news story cooking up over the past 18 to 24 months.  what is the world coming to when the so called Senate has someone like this on the payroll?

it’s getting to be that if you’re indian in Canada, you aint safe.

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you know the story?  (Found poetry book number 5, a work in progress.)

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“I was 14, She was 32”, found poem, Found poetry book 5, a work in progress, art therapy exercise number B.  it’s amazing, the fun you can have with a repurposed book, a few sharpie markers, and a guided exercise like black out poetry.  we’re using these fantastic art making exercises to cool many.

while in the storm: i try to use art and peace!  and love!

Life in the Big City No. 3-02-23-020

i’m on the swanky 9th at sunrise, Sunday morning, life on the road: artist doing that art sales thing.  up for grabs:

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Power Bird, acrylic on gallery canvas, 24×36″, by anishnabe artist Mark Seabrook.

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Bear Clan Power, acrylic on gallery canvas, 24×36″, by anishnabe artist Mark Seabrook.

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Power Bird: Body, Mind, Spirit, acrylic on gallery canvas, 24×36″, by anishnabe artist Mark Seabrook.

needless to say: with each finished painting we’re getting closer to the end our days with Stevenson paint.  yikes.

Friday afternoon i called up all the art supplies stores in Toronto asking: do you have any Stevenson acrylic?

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Articulations on Dundas W. had a few stragglers so i snapped those up on Saturday afternoon, knowing full well it could be the last of the Stevenson in the whole city!

while on Dundas, thought i would take a ride down to the AGO.  tis an entertaining drive with many kooky scenes along the way, as seen from the cosy confines of my new car.  the new car wiggles down those streets no problems, but out there on the big four lanes: there is nothing under the hood…

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look up there:  that’s someone’s crib!  talk about a room with a view!  that photo is taken from the corner of McCaul and Dundas, directly behind me is the AGO.  beauty sunny day for a stroll through the mad jungles!

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the club on McCaul, just up the street from the AGO.  love that club name.  hey!  we’ll have to go there sometime in the summer.

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directly across the street from the Sin and Redemption club!  ha ha!  nice work boys.

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“That Weekend @ the Cottage”, Found poetry Book 5, a work in progress.  i’m having a fun go of it with book 5, and as always using that “love” theme, “wild sex” theme and of course: “memory lane” theme, to tell wild stories of passion, sexual adventure, and love tossed.  loving too, the “Weekend at the Cottage” idea as we surely have spent a few!  sweet and sexy x 3.  for more on the Found Poetry idea, scroll through the blog, we have a few fun entries going on about the idea.

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crafty ideas:  that is a Dollarama box (4 bucks), ball point pen and sharpie marker, artwork by Mark Seabrook.  we’re always looking for bright ideas for the art making workshops that we conduct, art making for folks who think they have no artistic abilities.  well we at twinravens art schools surely put that idea to the test!  this little project came together in a short 50 minutes, radio playing in the background.  folks around the table called it a “memory box” while others said it could be used for a “traditional medicines place”.  however you use it, you can personalize it quickly without creating a mess on your table top!

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memory box/medicine keeper box top: art work by Mark Seabrook.  also in the shot:  Book 5, Found Poetry.  in our art making workshops we like to keep the participants hands busy!  strawberry smoothie in the background: try to stay healthy…

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the arts and crafts table:  memory box in back, Found Poetry Book 5 in front.  you don’t need a bunch of swanky and expensive art supplies to have some fun with us!  twinravens brand art making workshops are for everyone anywhere at anytime!

 

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okay we’ll try this again.  the last time we darn near let the cat “outa the bag”!!!  whoops!

before we get into the art news check this out:

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that is yours truly many moons ago:  screen shot from a vid.  the only reason i bring that one up is i want you to hear this song: 

that one:  was it really track 4?  all i know is we played it in the live show right after the initial bombardment: 4 thundering NR songs that absolutely got that audience to take notice.  this is the one the ended that bombardment and what a way to start the show.  ah but those were some show bizz daze…  fun times.  (psst:  we need to get the band back together.)

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someone in our recent travels asked if i knew a thing or two about the guitar and i said yes, that in the past, i had dabbled with it.  well another someone in the higher up heard that…  and they also knew about the band.  that “someone” is down the road another 10 year further than me, and let me say this much:  it is fun to know there are a few native folks out there who remember!  folks who are in a driver’s seat.

ah.  here is another for good measure:

we tried to open the show with that one but it was best to close the show with it.  (road show stories too!)(check out Danny Boy on those drums!)(he was a WIZARD!)

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i was standing in the “sweet spot”: where i could hear all the guitars and vocals on the stage!  ha.  with all that rock and roll can you believe at times, on stage, it’s difficult to hear things?

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of course i had to put this one on:  that’s Jen playing the congas, and that’s me watching the clock!  Buffy Ste Marie was up next and we didn’t want to keep her waiting!

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the new t shirt!  you know i’ve seen that shirt running around here and there:  strong, resilient, indigenous.

well.  when you’ve been around a bit, you’re tired of the flavour of the month with these words from overseas trying to tell us what we are.  first it was:  savage.  then it was: indian.  then it was:  native.  then it was:  aboriginal.  now it’s: indigenous.  and i, along with a few other old soldiers wonder what in the heck is it going to be next month?!!!

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so someone asked me what’s up?  i said:  i joined the resistance when i was 13 and have been fighting ever since.  i am powerful, i lived, unlike quite a few of my brothers in arms, who are KIA, or MIA.  i am authentic!  i am a real ANISHNABE.  i am not one of these fake Joseph Boyden/Grey Owl wannabeeze…   i won’t get scammed by a white salesman down on Hazelton Lanes, trying to sell me a 20 000 dollar “FAKE” Norval Morrisseau painting!  and i am not colonized:  i never bought into the religion from overseas and i sure as hell never thought a minute about the so called queen and “big ears”, that son of hers who went and got his ex wife killed and would likely F up a cup of coffee if he had to make it on his own.  nope!  that is supposed to be your future king?

well my queen is Queen:  We Will Rock You/We are…

(“My Melancholy Blues” is a close second!) 

you better listen to that one with the headphones…

wearing the shirt:  that is the GREAT JASMINE MOON, at the 2nd annual AFN Round Dance, O Town, a weekend ago.  and she is ANISHNABE.  still in training.

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speaking of Joe Boyden:  there sure are a lot of his books turning up in the Salvation Army bookshelves!  i know he made his millions playing indian, pulling the wool over who knows how many white eyes, and red eyes (ha!) but let’s just hope for a minute that there is still a chance for us real indian writers.  not sure what word to use these days!  savage.  indian.  native.  aboriginal.  indigenous…  flipping aliens…

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in progress, and using the LAST of the Stevenson paint…  (boo hoo!)  24×36 inches on gallery canvas.  it looks like we might have 6 more paintings at best, in Stevenson before we have to find that new brand.  i’m hoping a professional indio artist will take me under his/her wing/wings.

in the spirit of:

forget about the lame version by Ed V.  this is the real version.  my thing is this: if you can’t do it better than them, leave it alone.  as far as i’m concerned:  Ed V. SUCKED!  i’d say leave it alone dude but we know they handed him a great big fat pay cheque for that one!

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ah yes:  No Rez, we need to get that band back together.  the principles are still around!  and we’ll say this!  those songs are still relevant today:  like:  Putting Up a Barricade!  Native Pride.  Civilized Man.  Road Is So Long.  Dreamcatcher.  Logging Road.  Hollywood Indian.  actuals.  authentica.  NR was the real deal and still is.

i used to think the term “survivor” was a bit too big, but yes, i was way wrong about that.

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i know the dad who adopted me and saved my life, he was a ww2 survivor.  truth be told i’m not so sure how he came back from that.  but he was a survivor.  my 3 older brothers are dead and my 3 younger ones are missing.  what does that make me?

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at any rate:  the poison runs thick and strong, and it’s in us.  we need to water it out of us.  if we can keep the water clean which seems like a chore these days with the pipe lines and train derailments and jumbo jets and etc.

(cue in the music, Frankie!)

 

Saturday Night Blizzard!

Well maybe it “aint no” blizzard like the folks in NFLD whooped through in the past 24 hours but here in O’sville, outside, now, 6 p.m., it aint pretty.  And it IS ice Flipping cold!  that is why I’m tucked away in here, in the crib, with the fake fire going, fake fireplace on the TV, 2D logs burning bright, warm as toast, snug as a bug, nestled up next to a Henschke Cyril Henschke Cab slash Sauv slash Franc slash Mer mixarama.  The folks are pitching it as extra dry but I’m telling you right now its twice the sweet as I like them.  Ah well.  It IS a snow storm out there.  And those Australian Vins on a cold winter night are something to write home about.  I’d write home if I had one…

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And so!  It IS a blizzard, I’m in for the evening with the vin and a book.  Thought I’d re read the “CLASSIC HORROR STORY” by kooky Sinclair Ross:  The Painted Door.  Of course when I was sporting, many moons ago, we’d make that trip, a mile anyway…

Things have changed since then.  Now, as an old man, we don’t need to wade through classic Canadian horror stories as we have enough of them stowed in our own story telling departments: if it were a library, a mighty library it would be as some of us did!  I was reminded of that when I crossed paths with an old soldier today:  same age as me!  We laughed and cackled our way through stories about the ages, old names, old places, now all dead and gone.  Yet we remain: Two Anishnabe, from the same year, many times in the same places, with the same people, yet never crossing paths until today.  Slick stuff.

We got to that story sharing place where I told him about that night at the International on Kathleen Street, N’Swakamok, summer of 1995:  I was in there with one of the killers, as back up.  He was in there looking for someone but he never told me why he was looking for this person.  We sat ourselves down at a table and ordered drinks and pretty soon this young Anishnabe dude came along and sat himself down at our table.  This dude knew the killer and they were chatting up a storm, going on about “stuff”.  Well I’d heard enough after about 20 seconds and said to the killer:  Is this the guy?

As I said that I was reaching inside my coat with my right hand and the dude FREAKED!  He put his hands up right away and said Hey Man!  I didn’t do anything!

Of course he was right.  I was just reaching into my coat pocket to get my cigarettes, to see if he wanted a Marlboro Red.  Back in those days you could smoke in the bar.  It was kooky to see though how that dude nearly shit his pants when I did that.  Ha ha.

It has been one of those winter days.  Cool too though when you cross paths with folks of the same vintage.

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Girl From the North Country, Found Poetry, Book 5, a work in progress.  Drawing by Mark Seabrook, Anishnabe artist.  Truth is I have NOT been drawing over the past few or several years and…  They were right.  It does go away if you don’t keep at it.

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Anishnabe Kwe, Found Poetry, book 5.  So yes, we’re still working at it.  The book is 400 plus pages and the story is INSANE!!!  So we’re mostly painting over the pages of text and making this one into a book of drawings.  There are a few poems in there but not as many as in the past books.  The drawing practice has been good for this old boy.

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Ed Hopper at the MET.  Remember how I was going on about that meltdown at the MET, back in December?  Well here we are a long way from, and here they are in no particular order, the paintings that brought on the meltdown…

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Have mercy.  You can read a ton of books about this one but when you’re standing where he once stood:  the same distance away I mean, there is a fine line between living out your dream and shitting your pants on the NY subway.

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Good Wowza.  If you are a visual artist, and you walk into a room and see this…  Well lets just say this:  I was in there looking at this and wondered if maybe it might have been better had I been KIA in the Great Hay Wagon Disaster of 78.  (If you don’t know what that is, scroll back through a few blog postings…  )

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Good Gawd!  Anyone out there reading this:  are you a painter?

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Jeepers H. Mary and M.F. Joe!  You read about it.  You see a small picture in an art history book text.  But then there it is.  Wowza x 2.

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Stop.  Stand.  And Stare.  Holy chocolate wagon wheels someone actually created this with their bare hands…  (Q. And what am I doing?  A.  A GREAT BIG FAT NOTHING.)

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OFMFGF.  We went over this in art school for days.  Detailing it, went over it, shoulder to shoulder on our hands and knees, going over every inch of the details with an extremely powerful art history instructor.

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Yup!  I was nearly a sobbing wreck by this point.  Just like that time I watched the first 5 minutes of the movie:  UP.

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Okay.  No words.  There it is.

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Have mercy!

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Absolute melting point:  if you’re an art enthusiast and dreaming…  If you see something like this, in the MET, after all these years…   (Well lets just say it will be the crows nest for me.)

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Here though:  something turned.  I may have rounded a corner with this one.

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Stopped and stared.  Imagined Mr. R. standing there too, cigarettes in hand…  ages ago.

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K.M. in his gear, making the presentation on Thursday night to a darn near a sold out show.  He had his book, getting his words straight, but what I was worried about is that he was going to fall off those great big high heels he was wearing!  He didn’t fall off his shoes and it was a great performance, and a great show:  glad to be there and see it first hand.  That painting of course, if you scroll back through the blog, you’ll  see it up close, from that night long ago…

And so the snow storm continues.

alone at Carter's Bay in a long ago summer time

alone at Carter’s Bay in a long ago summer time

I dream about the beaches back home: the wind and the waves, the sun, the earth, the sky.  The blue and green.  And yes:  The sienna, the gold and silver.

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Oh la la!  There will be time to get back to those water falls and that river where I call home.  I usually travel at night.  I’ll arrive at sunrise!

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When you live a bit, silly things like a snow storm are nothing.  Rooms in a house, the “Famous Cockroach Incident”, a thousand mile drive at a hundred miles an hour, the summer of 1995, the lawns between her house and mine at age 12, her red jacket…

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I’ve got a home waiting for me.  Yes I’m the road now but I’ll be home soon.  For now though, we have the art, the road, the snow storm, the flash Australian Vin, and the stuff not worth mentioning out the front window, the back window and the side windows:  life i the city in mid January.

Keep on keeping ON!