MFO

hello itchy sweater, can I offer you a drink?

2010-01-01T22:29:00.000-08:00

Our ability to grow is directly proportional to an ability to entertain the uncomfortable." ~Twyla Tharp

Back to the Garden

2009-08-26T14:00:00.000-07:00

Summer of Love---Lolly style.

2009-08-26T13:58:00.000-07:00

It's a small but achievable dream

Take a sad song and make it better

2009-08-06T12:42:00.001-07:00

If you want to have your world seem both precious and expansive at the same time, I can recommend taking a walk in the early evening when the sky has just begun to drape a gauzy sherbet-hued scarf across its clear blue neck. It needs to be summer, so when you pass by a high school it seems abandoned and frozen in time and your mind can fill it's halls with the class of, say, 85'. The school will feel like a big sleeping lion, drugged perhaps, so that you can get REALLY close and inspect its teeth, smell it's breath and run your fingertips along it's mane and maybe even throw an arm over its stretched back and spoon a little. All this will happen without your needing to stop. You may notice that 2 of the trees on a tree-lined street have been chosen as the official crow meeting place for all crows within a 2 mile radius, and you will marvel as the sky becomes scribbled with a mass of black lines and you will wonder how they all knew to meet then and there and why they perch together in silence. And, because of the angle of the setting sun, it will all be in silhouette, and you will unconsciously bring your hand to your heart and audibly inhale. All this will be on the way to a park and here you will hear a group of 5 or so children, ages 5-7 maybe, spontaneously sing an entire verse and chorus of "Hey Jude".

Happy Sequential Number Day!

2009-07-08T07:48:00.000-07:00

4th in '54 n' '83

2009-07-04T23:19:00.000-07:00

independence day

2009-07-04T22:24:00.000-07:00

4th of July may be my favorite holiday...FREEDOM!
FIreworks just do me...speed and color, thrills and chills. My new camera has a setting specifically for fireworks, how about that.

prop house whores

2009-06-29T19:07:00.000-07:00

Off The Wall

2009-06-25T15:24:00.000-07:00

and the planet.

One of my top 10 albums of all time. Thanks Michael. RIP.

2009-06-23T15:42:00.000-07:00

The concept of summer vacation has failed to leave me as an adult.

2009-05-26T08:48:00.000-07:00

But, then again, the mind can really be a lying sack of shit.

2009-05-18T20:20:00.000-07:00

2009-05-16T14:01:00.000-07:00

2009-05-03T09:44:00.000-07:00

kthnxbi

2009-04-12T08:13:00.000-07:00

alchemy of stupidery

2009-04-10T19:36:00.000-07:00

Here's something interesting...I recently read that researchers in the UK strapped a large lump of gold to the screen of a TV on left it switched on for 2 years. When they removed and analyzed it they found that it had been converted to lead.

upon waking

2009-03-25T07:55:00.000-07:00

My first very first thought this morning was 'David Sedaris is sort of like a gay Woody Allen'
I wonder what sort of tone that will set for the day

exposed legs and humping pigeons

2009-03-22T19:18:00.000-07:00

Spring is here!

easy listening

2009-03-14T21:13:00.000-07:00

this song calms.

2009-03-10T19:33:00.000-07:00

I think it's important to take one's winter apparel seriously.

ladies I dont know

2009-03-04T21:50:00.000-08:00

but feel that I would like.

Best Alarm Clock Ever

2009-03-04T18:44:00.001-08:00

if only Paul Rudd could do this dance at the foot of my bed every morning.

DANG!

2009-02-23T13:14:00.001-08:00

doesnt take much to make me laugh:

2009-02-21T15:20:00.000-08:00

Charles Dickens walks into a bar... and orders a martini.
The bartender says, "Olive or twist?"

gummi bear army of love

2009-02-11T14:19:00.000-08:00

current mood

2009-02-09T01:35:00.000-08:00

2009-01-31T16:19:00.000-08:00

timing is everything if
you've got nothing but time

nature AND nurture

2009-01-30T09:37:00.000-08:00

Artist Elaine Bradford's wonderful creations!

She uses window light to read. Essential window light.

2009-01-30T09:06:00.000-08:00

Gatsby dippin'

2009-01-29T23:35:00.000-08:00

there was a jauntiness about her movements, as if she had first learned to walk upon golf courses on clean, crisp mornings

F. Scott works a mean pen. Had forgotten how enjoyable he was to read.

2009-01-29T21:24:00.000-08:00

Maira Kalman and I are opting for a moment of blissful naivete instead of deep question asking. Hurray.

sweet dreams

2009-01-29T21:02:00.001-08:00

Camera Obscura by Abelardo Morell

2009-01-27T15:30:00.000-08:00

Pray for the voices inside your head,
that they wont be there when you're dead.

missed connections: o4w

2009-01-27T11:25:00.001-08:00

acquaintance with the night

2009-01-25T01:59:00.000-08:00

An unexpected visit from insomnia ...
Why don't I hear all these things in the day?
The way each individual appliance makes it's own sound,
the refrigerator is loudest and has both a chorus and a verse
followed by the computer,
even the lamps make noise.
And my head is the land of unfinished sentences.

momversation

2009-01-25T01:34:00.000-08:00

Me: I went to a dinner party this weekend and met some nice people.
Mom: That's nice. Do you think you'll see any of them again?
Me: Yes, actually. One of them invited me to a party she's having next week.
Mom: Wow. Thats like icing on a cake that already has icing!

do you remember where you parked?

2009-01-24T21:41:00.000-08:00

Stunning pictures of the growing stocks of unsold cars...

Lolly Wins!

2009-01-20T20:20:00.000-08:00

Mom recently won "runner-up" in a free-style drawing contest...her prize was a silver headdress and a set of fur pasties.

LINT

2009-01-10T22:28:00.001-08:00

Im haunted a little this evening by feelings that have no vocabulary and events that should be explained in dimensions of lint rather than words.

Ive been examining half-scraps of my childhood. They are pieces of distant life that have no form or meaning. They are things that just happened like lint.

-Richard Brautigan

birds in the kitchen

2009-01-06T10:21:00.000-08:00

Theresa Andersson, A young Swedish Girl living in New Orleans, ridiculously talented, making music in her kitchen...and she is cooking up a big pot of happy! Git yer spoon.

2009-01-05T17:51:00.000-08:00

voyeurism via craigslist

2009-01-05T17:11:00.000-08:00

The girl who took a dump in the Art Institute parking lot! - m4w

Date: 2008-12-03, 11:53PM PST

I mean, come on!

It was like 50 paces to the nearest restroom!

I sat there in my car wondering what the hell you were up to - you spent at least 2 minutes scurrying around your parked car, looking to see if the coast was clear. I thought you were going to, like, break into someone else's car or something. Then I guessed you thought you were "safe" and hurried to the front of your car, near the third level stairwell, dropped your pants, squatted and WENT TO IT!

For Christ's sake, woman! All the time you spent looking out for passing cars so no one would see you crapping like a dog in public, you could have hustled your lazy ass downstairs and into the building and USED THE DAMNED RESTROOM!

Sheesh!

Anyway - if you're free later, drop me a line. I was never more turned on in my life.

Location: Santa Monica
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

Old Dog Love

2009-01-03T23:36:00.000-08:00

An homage to a swell dog who is turning 16 on Monday...as his owner puts it "a minor tribute to a major player"
Be sure to read the credits and then loosen your shirt cause your heart might swell a tad.

rill purdy

2008-12-24T11:34:00.000-08:00

good winter

2008-12-23T10:44:00.000-08:00

mottos of the states

2008-12-19T10:10:00.000-08:00

I dont know what possessed me this morning to look up state mottos ... but I did.

standouts:

Kansas To the stars through adversity
Maine I direct
Maryland Manly deeds, womanly words
Minnesota I long to see what is beyond
Oregon She flies with her own wings

2008-12-19T09:31:00.000-08:00

2 heads are better than 1

2008-12-13T16:50:00.000-08:00

2008-12-10T14:16:00.000-08:00

If you can't be interesting, be nice.
- Carrie Fisher

Momversations: a movie review

2008-12-08T18:47:00.000-08:00

Mom: I went to see that movie, Australia.
Me: Oh really, how was it?
Mom: Well I didnt really like it at all, it was too big and hard to focus on, and that lead man Hugh Jackson, the way his body is built...well, those arent the kind of muscles you get from the outside like a real man, he has the kind of muscles you get inside, like from an exercise place.

In Memory of John Lennon

2008-12-08T11:01:00.000-08:00

on the anniversary of his death

A beautiful tribute by Paul.

and this..

play with your food.

2008-12-05T20:08:00.000-08:00

Still in recovery from being a professional eater and mother hostess (1 week of Mom, S O L I D)

More on that later...please enjoy stop-motion food stylings of PES.

jail mail

2008-11-20T21:27:00.000-08:00

What follows is one of many letters that a friend of mine receives from a prison inmate. The letters arrive with the words "STATE PRISON GENERATED MAIL" stamped across the envelope in bold print, which to both of us seems far more exotic than a postmark from say, Tanzania or Bhutan. I'm honoring my friend's request to stay mum about the whos and the whys of how this all came to be. But the writing is extraordinary, and the stories...well, unbelievably colorful considering they come from a place that I've always imagined to be black, white and grey---

I hope you’re doing well. It’s the kind of hope shipwrecked sailors have when they wash up on the shore of a foreign place. I can’t imagine what your life is like. I choose to believe that it is strange. Tell me so that I can live vicariously. Mine of course is Tim Burton strange. My clothes are blue and shabby but clean. A lot of the fellows here go to lengths in their dress as if it mattered; but I don’t care. My pants are worn and frayed, my white T-shirts stretched out and grey, and my dirty brown boots look something like a lumberjack’s at the end of his career. I continue to breathe, life isn’t so bad.

The cellie situation is vastly improved. Let’s recap: My good cellie, David Berlin, got a single cell, something I can’t begrudge, it’s so valuable. Privacy! Precious and impossible for me. Then, my San Diego homeboy, Jimmy Hatfield, a self-professed lunatic, moved in and immediately went lunatic, accused me of stealing his filthy plastic coffee cup and a 3 cent envelope. He roamed the yard while I was at work and told skeptical mutual acquaintances that I was robbing and persecuting him. After a month of dramatic chaos he moved out; and Bill Garrett moved in. He seemed like a good fellow even with his 6 boxes of legal problems. Before he moved in I advised him that I was an insomniac who read late into the night. “Fine,” Bill said, but within 48 hours it wasn’t fine and he took to sighing explosively from 9 p.m. until I turned out the light. He is a light sleeper and my page turning kept him awake; he suggested his health was beginning to fail thanks to sleep depravation. I’ve heard (or made up and have come to believe) that sighing for hours is unhealthy, but he didn’t believe me. Bill needs his sleep because he is suing every other agency in California for a variety of indignities foisted upon him. He’s suing the doctors here because they won’t give him amphetamine, which he thinks will cure his ADD. He has to get up at 5 a.m. (which truly didn’t bother me) to watch an obscure religious figure in order to gird himself for a day of typing, filing documents and looking up obscure case law that supports his insupportable positions. Bill is doing 35 to Life and is convinced his legal machinations will soon release him, a common delusion, though a necessary one. One night he asked me what kind of job he should get when he’s finally released—I suggested he should get a job breaking in other people’s shoes. An angry Bill said I wasn’t taking him seriously, and then he moved out. Then...I luckily met a goofy guy, nothing like me in countless ways, but has a sense of humor about himself, isn’t a casetalker, and he has a kitchen job that occupies most of his days; neither Bill nor Jimmy worked. However, my new cellie’s name is Booger. I don’t know why yet. What’s in a name? I don’t know. My occasional friend Rich is toying with his name. I got him a job in the library and then orchestrated his getting the head clerk job, which I turned down because I prefer to be the Overlord back in the stacks. Rich immediately went mad with power, something that happens to convicts often once they begin working closely with free staff or the police. A little Stockholm Syndrome I guess. Rich famously came out of the closet about 3 months into the job, surprising us all; he’d so efficiently portrayed himself as a S.F. stoner partial to women. We clash on the subject of his authority (he is only supposed to check out books and run the main computer) because he is lording his new (nonexistent) powers over the other librarians. Ultimately, I don’t care except that the rest of the crew complains to me, saying I’ve created a Frankenstein. Rich has embraced his feminine side to the point where he’s started taking hormones, and tells me this as a way of explaining his moodiness. A day later he very tersely tells me, “I wish you’d call me by my new name.” Puzzled, I say, “I’m sorry?” Too angrily for my tastes, he says, “My name is Feather. Everyone calls me that except you.” Three other librarians standing nearby, to a man, say things like, “Feather? Rich is Feather? Did you know that?” Rich then yelled at all of us, “My name is Feather!”—“Dude, seriously, you’ve been Rich to me for like a year. I had no idea.” Angrier yet, he hisses at me, “I’d just like you to give me the respect of going by my new name.” I am nonplussed and momentarily at a loss. Besides the librarians, a half dozen patrons are enjoying the wrangle. I finally say, “Alright, fine, I want you to call me Tumbleweed.” (which just popped out with little thought, but after a couple days with most of the library workers calling me Tumbleweed, I sort of like it); and then another worker, Wadley, an odd Muslim man who goes for weeks without talking to anyone, suddenly pipes up in his unusual Louisiana accent, “I wanna be Desert Hawk!”; and the 68 year old Mexican, Larry, yells, “My name is Boner!” a nickname he’s been trying to get us to call him for months. The upshot is that a lot of people here are now calling me Tumbleweed. You can call me whatever you want.

going on---getting down

2008-11-17T11:45:00.000-08:00

love Love LOVE this video and song...

2008-11-15T09:05:00.000-08:00

Mom and her friend Sandy make the pages of advanced style with these inspired outfits.

2008-11-14T15:17:00.000-08:00

today I will feel like Buster Keaton's face

2008-11-12T15:04:00.000-08:00

The day starts fine enough, the sun comes out. But, a series of emails/phone calls/random unfortunate circumstances will all but blot out the sun for me, and I will find myself getting introverted, insecure and depressed...

In an attempt to shake off the blues I will decide to ride my bike to the post office ( about 2 miles away) to buy stamps. Unfortunately, when I arrive, the stamp vending machine will be out of order and there will be a VERY long line for the service windows. Had I driven, well, lets just say I would have turned around and gotten back in my car. As is sometimes the case with government offices, things will not run well---or follow rules of logic...like, for instance, one of the 3 employees will choose to "take a break" although there is a line stretching nearly out the door. Twenty minutes later I will purchase my stamps ( a sheet commemorating Latin Jazz, bright and cheery --- not at all like Buster Keaton's face)
and I will stuff them in my back pocket and decide to take a long route home ( as I am still determined to lift the funk) and I will ride, fraudulently carefree, through some of the more beautiful parts of town. I will be about 30 minutes into the scenic ride home when I realize that the stamps are no longer in my pocket. I will decide (with determined hope) that it must have just happened and I will begin to retrace my route...which will ultimately bring me right back to the post office. I will not find my stamps and I will realize that I dont have enough cash to buy another set and that I have been gone for over 2 hours and haven't accomplished any of the things I set out to do:
1) get stamps
2) get out of victimy, sad sack frame of mind by riding bike and getting fresh air

well, technically I did get fresh air.

report to hq

2008-11-07T13:36:00.001-08:00

Honey McClellan of Joshua Tree

2008-11-06T09:25:00.001-08:00

some moods

2008-11-06T09:20:00.000-08:00

2008-11-06T08:25:00.000-08:00

I cant think of anything to say that wouldnt be a cliche...but I love this damn video.

our leader

2008-11-05T14:12:00.000-08:00

the audacity of hope

2008-11-04T14:36:00.001-08:00

When my brother and I were kids our grandmother gave us stuffed elephants to put on our beds on the eve of the presidential elections and told us that "we were a republican family and to remember that because it's very important! Dont forget to say your prayers for the republicans!". As adults I dont think either of us has ever voted republican, but our 75 year old mother, dutiful old guard, red state living sweetie pie that she is--well, that line of thinking is a safe, cozy blanket. About 2 years ago she did tearfully express to me that she had regretted voting for George W, that she didnt understand how it had gone so wrong. This year she felt "safe" again with McCain, she attended a republican rally, she went to see Sarah Palin speak. My brother and I respectfully talked to her about why she should consider turning blue this year. Sometimes I heard myself getting impassioned and soapboxy (which is as effective as pelting someone with tropical flavored skittles) but as election day neared I mostly just wanted her to feel GOOD about whomever she cast her vote for. Saturday she was still leaning towards McCain. On Sunday, my brother went over and watched the Obama "infomercial" with her, and tried to answer any questions that she might have. When I talked to him that night he felt that she was still very much on the fence. Last night, she called and told me she had made a decision and that she felt very good about it and it was the right choice for her...and then she said "I'm voting for Barack Obama".

No stuffed elephants on the bed last night, but lots of tears.

Today's Obsession

2008-10-14T14:04:00.000-07:00

THIS VIDEO

funny
sweet
creepy
sad
retro
futuristic
sparkly
hot choreography
galaxy children
jewel tones
awkward
perfection

advanced style

2008-10-11T23:56:00.000-07:00

Beautious and Wholesomonious

2008-10-04T15:58:00.000-07:00

by the darling Swedish sister duo (ages 15 & 17) , First AId Kit.

Just sort of reminds me of summer camp in the 70s, and the sweet girls I knew back then.

lola rocks

2008-09-24T21:54:00.001-07:00

"Hello Los Angeles! Are you ready to ROCK?"

My friends' almost 5 year old daughter, Lola, treated me her to incredible version of Rush's "Tom Sawyer" (dad on drums).

webmaster

2008-09-24T21:50:00.000-07:00

read this out loud

2008-09-20T23:46:00.000-07:00

I'd go by Michael

end of summer garden

2008-09-15T11:32:00.000-07:00

today's inspiration: May Lemke

2008-09-05T10:53:00.001-07:00

Leslie Lemke didn't have a great start in life. He was born with severe birth defects that required doctors to remove his eyes. He had cerebral palsy and was mentally retarded. His own mother gave him up for adoption, and a nurse named May Lemke (who at the time was 52 and raising 5 children of her own) adopted him when he was six months old.

As a young child, May force-fed Leslie to teach him how to swallow. He could not stand until he was 12. At 15 he walked for the first time , May would strap his body to hers in the hopes that he would eventually mimic the movements. She also put his hands on hers as she played simple tunes on the piano, and she would sing to him

At 16 years of age May woke to find Leslie playing Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1. Leslie, who had no classical music training, was playing the piece flawlessly after hearing it just once earlier on the television.

Leslie's achievments are remarkable, and his abilities speak to how little we understand about the human brain...but it's May's achievments that are most inspiring to me, and her abilities show the true power of the human heart. Plus she was about the cutest thing ever (she died in 1993 of Alzheimers).

We need more Mays.

carnival!

2008-08-21T07:49:00.000-07:00

It was like walking around the remnants of a giant burst pinata.

the impermanence of feelings

2008-08-18T11:36:00.000-07:00

2008-08-17T20:30:00.000-07:00

"If you squeeze sand too tightly, it runs through your fingers"

That's what Joni Mitchell said to Graham Nash when she ended their love affair.

8

2008-08-10T16:25:00.000-07:00

This is the latest crop circle, discovered on 8/8/08 in Wiltshire England...I've always liked this whole crop circle thing. Whether taken as art or messages from extra-terrestrials it excites my mind.

So, in further celebration of the number 8, a circle that turns round upon itself.... and means many things, including magic and infinite possibility....

2008-08-10T08:15:00.000-07:00

THE NECESSITY OF APPEARING
IN YOUR OWN FACE

There are days when that is the last place
in the world where you want to be but you
have to be there, like a movie, because it
features you.

-Richard Brautigan

CSI Backyard

2008-08-08T09:31:00.000-07:00

2008-08-02T20:35:00.000-07:00

puggle time

2008-07-30T20:20:00.000-07:00

I never get sick of these guys...

2008-07-27T08:23:00.000-07:00

Cyclops blinding is a clothing optional sport
Blinded cyclops penis watching...clothing required.

momversations

2008-07-23T19:40:00.000-07:00

Me: Hi Mom.
Mom: Oh hi honey, can I call you back? I'm in the middle of making my funeral arrangements*

Later on that day

Mom: Well honey, I'm going to be cremated. You dont mind, do you? But I've made sure that you can see my body beforehand if you want, I know how you like to look at dead things.

*my mom is perfectly healthy outside of having degenerative eye disease and fuzzy logic.

OG

2008-07-23T09:40:00.001-07:00

2008-07-22T11:00:00.001-07:00

I feel ready...

soap operas

2008-07-22T10:43:00.000-07:00

Beautiful photgraphs of soap bubbles by Jason Tozer. So peaceful.

2008-07-15T07:37:00.001-07:00

The words expressed are not quite reflective of my views, but I appreciate this video for many reasons. Plus it has an 80s feel!

nobody does it better

2008-07-13T17:40:00.000-07:00

Ah, vintage Carly. She impresses me, what can I say?

2008-07-07T16:54:00.000-07:00

I'm a 1974 nickel in the corner that the vacuum keeps missing so it stays there inadvertantly, surrounded by more and more dust bunnies.
-AGL

My favorite sentence from an email all month.
Haven't we all been there.

2008-07-07T13:36:00.000-07:00

Keep wonder ALIVE

these are a few of my favorite things

2008-07-07T13:25:00.000-07:00

While I may be over the boozy part, I will always be a sucker for romantic natures...and elephant nose parties.

2008-07-07T11:20:00.000-07:00

GIRLS, (PRETTY)
The power of a pretty girl... totally unquantifiable. But this much is certain: there is nothing a beautiful girl in the West cannot have, for a time. And I don't speak from any far off hilltop - I'm as much a sucker as anyone. I've risked everything for a certain look, for tapered fingers or a particular mole. So I hear you when you say it's not what she says, not what she does, that it's on her. It's something she wears and however skin deep it may be on her, it penetrates you right to the marrow. Pretty girls lie at the centre of straight culture, dyke culture, fag culture. They sell everything, they buy everything, they ruin great men and women, and finally they ruin themselves, accidentally, simply by getting old. I think about them. Sometimes I want them and sometimes I worry about them - even though it's not my business to do. I wonder about them. I wonder if you are the pretty girl in question. I wonder what you do with a power which, though potent, makes you vulnerable to every probe, every demand, every infiltration? I wonder what you do with a power that turns you into an open atlas upon which any idiot can map their own route?

-Zadie Smith

One of my occupations involves beauty, and frequently I am in the presence of young beautiful women. Yesterday I worked on 3 young pretty girls, all under the age of 15. They had no idea of the power they were wielding. They were just girls, not yet women, but womanly enough to get the attention of any man or woman who recognizes their as yet unrecognized power. What's interesting about being around the beauty of youth (as opposed to the beauty of other things---of which there are many) is that it tends to intoxicate without warning, pupils dialate and the subject begins to appear brighter than the surroundings... and all of this is projected onto someone who has no idea. I realized as I was staring at them that some part of me had set about wanting...wanting to possess, wanting to be near, wanting to touch. Not sexual, yet not quite unsexual either...in the way food or nature can be. Wanting to devour or be devoured by it. If I were blind would I be able to detect the potency? It's visual for sure, but it's also married to a purity and innocence that permeates a room, delicate as a spider's web and heady as the scent of a tropical flower. When we are young and beautiful we ARE blind to it. It's like inherited money, not earned and so unable to be grasped and appreciated. I definitely was not the master of my atlas back then, and as a result I contain plenty of pages marked with someone elses highlighter. Yep, blew through that inheritance! Now I celebrate the beauty of wisdom and the beauty of compassion. Two hard earned attributes that ensure a much more peaceful and satisfying trip. And, thankfully, just as interesting.

SELF POSSESSION

I cant pretend to know what Jessie Mann was thinking as her mother, Sally Mann, photographed her. But I offer her up as the rare example of self-possession, even as a child. A master of her own atlas.

THAT grows up to become THIS

I know, right? She's hard to take your eyes off of.

2008-06-30T22:42:00.000-07:00

2008-06-26T07:59:00.000-07:00

Don't be afraid if things seem difficult in the beginning. That's just the initial impression. The important thing is not to retreat; you have to master yourself.

-Olga Korbut

2008-06-20T13:41:00.000-07:00

The outrageousness of nature...
This is the kind of stuff I wish the papparazzi stalked.

2008-06-20T13:39:00.001-07:00

Oh dear god. Exquisite.

uh-huh

2008-06-20T13:30:00.000-07:00

Late Fragment

And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.

-Raymond Carver

spot free

2008-06-20T07:50:00.000-07:00

fleurs

2008-06-10T10:03:00.000-07:00

3 of mine...
loved the x-ray shot of someone elses.
so delicate, but so alive...and fluid.

groove is in the heart...

2008-05-31T21:17:00.001-07:00

Just the moon and some magic were all these two needed. Saw them late at night dancing to the sound of traffic on a slab of concrete in a park in Culver City. Made my week.

24 hours

2008-05-31T21:10:00.000-07:00

Same flowers!

on tonights walk around new hood

2008-05-31T21:03:00.000-07:00