Started out in California, theatre around the west, segued into ballet, industrial slide production, Otis Art Institute, magazine publishing, went to New York and sojourned a year in a back room of Wall Street, book publishing, freelance writing, came to Florida, graduate studies in philosophy, now...
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what painting is
the state of art criticism
postmodern theology
wwoz in nola
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(not to mention scrine design)
i rest in sheets like light silk scarves wafting around my legs, enveloped in the rose satin pouf that my mother gave aunt anna belle for her wedding in 1940, floating slippily in down-filled pockets of warm over crochet and cotton and wooly felt bedslippers. it is 44 degrees, the air is crisp and--what is this irritant, this niggly sharpy thing that’s poking under me? oh. potato chip.
sigh.
*snort* In my bed, the “pea” is most often a pistachio, or the disembodied plastic head of a toy mouse.