And Tiny Kitten sleeps in my bed each nite. As I go up she will run in front of me. The others used to. Maybe I’ll move over to the large bed and we can all fit there. I’d like that. S.
The story of Tiny Kitten. Or the nun’s priest’s tail
Early Portraits, done on film, for print …magazine &design publications …… books, reports &c. those old things
In the middle of this plague have been asked by several people for several reasons, for several sets of my portraits…
Hell of a lot of Stormy Mondays…& Tuesday’s just as bad. Paris when you’re a kid comes back to haunt ya…
T-Bone Blues (“…gonna change my way of living baby, move across the deep blue sea…”) ended the night and lingered toward the back of my mind like an incantation. And then too much whiskey, too many cigarettes and too long without sleep presents its badge and credentials and states without feeling, “I can’t do this anymore.” Maybe there was no whiskey — no cigarettes either. Maybe just the goddamn taxes. But six will get you ten, when that feeling comes…it’s a dark and stormy night. And right after Sunday, Stormy Monday will begin bright and early. Pretty much, right on time.