^you write like Japhy Ryder from Dharma Bums
Thanks?
read the book!
read it!
Which one do you kids like better?
This one is a tracing of one a sticker I got on eBay. I scanned it into my computer before I used it incase something happened putting it on and it got ruined. I plan on making some more stickers for myself, or maybe anyone else who wants one.
This one is a tracing from the one that was actually on Garcia’s guitar. I found a pic of it online and made this, which is the exact replica of it.
These are just rough sketches, not sure which one I like better…
mi hablo numero dos. adios!
maryjo, your art is great! i’m too lazy to post the pic i liked best but it was the painting of what looked like a pale, female face that was “melting”. very nice stuff ; )
Where is his brother?
In the tub.
Shirley Temple!
This is the beginning of a ditty about a weird occuring dream I’ve had throughout my days as Justin Little of Earth. I just began writing it a couple days ago. I like the consonance and alliteration.
Melismatic flock of flies flys by.
I listen to it’s wings’ low cries.
Terrapin of the sea, he sees me.
I listen to his songs of glee.
“To keep the snakes away,” he’d say,
So we could enjoy, remainder of the day.
The snakes uptake with heavy rakes
But flee and flake at notes that Turtle makes.
Here’s a poem I wrote. It was recognized as a semi-finalist in the William Faulkner Writing Competition this year.
Peck of Dirt
Rejoice my soul! Spring from the earth.
^Good shit, Shay.
A pic i took!
Hey!
I have those same…ice trays.
Target?
^
I don’t remember. Possibly.
I can’t imagine any other retailer stocking blue ice trays.
some logo with me initials done for art in school…
color/black
some shit i wrote when i was feeling pensive one night…
FREQUENCY
Sometimes, those still times,
I
ooh, another one! this one’s my favorite. i wrote this when i was in a deep Nick Cave phase a couple years ago…
THE GIRL FROM THE SEA
Well as I recall it was mid-late fall,
The year 1973
I was a little boy of seven years,
Just as curious as you please
Now as I ran thru the fields and laughed with the ghosts
And talked with the Old Oak Tree,
The yellow moon rose up over the hill,
And a spell it did put on me
Under silver light of that autumn moon
I saw a path leading thru the trees
And that October wind, she began to blow
And laid her icy fingers on me
Just then a ghostly voice whispered in my ear: