Wired for sound...

... and down with whatever.


One good thing about living in the valley is the op-shops. I don't know what purpose this large, ceramic shell is going to serve, but when I figure it out it's going to look bitchin' while serving said purpose.

money, hos and rims again

You'd do the same if you were forced to listen to people talking about things like 'rate pegging plus two per cent' for three hours.


Pining for the past, baby.
For backyard chills and serious late-night debates and sometimes sunrises but mostly just 4ams and mexican and thai and vietnamese and passionpop and whiskey and cigarettes and the best music mixes with like michael jackson or biggie totally halting the conversation for a minute... and for sticking one more goddamned thing to my wall.
Bold as love, baby.


I found urchins. They were already dead, so I kept them.
This is exactly what it looks like, which is some emus being chased in a canefield.

Raw Utungun-safari encounters.

Accept Loss Forever

I started a Flickr, which has some archive shit--about 3 years is as far as I'm willing to archive--and it makes me feel like my work is getting steadily worse. Artistic alzheimers.
But it's there. Or here:


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