The sun is out and so is the Holga, to capture what appears to be sun out in the world. Yesterday had the most Medieval experience, as I was leaving the house I saw the blue sky reflected and sun reflected in a puddle on the driveway and was startled. Last night with each shot of Cuervo as I did some celebrity guest bartending the night became more dreamlike. Someone handed me a letter from a guy I met ten years ago at a memorial service for a poet artist who hanged himself. The letter was c/o a gallery where some of my artwork hangs like the poet was.
Hawksley Workman was doing showman things onstage and I shot his pinstriped self and after he was way done I saw him walking through the bar, trailed by a catgirl who had been perched, lips wet, above the stage on a balcony, leaning into his aura. Catgirl followed him through the bar and was collecting the posters and flyers with his likeness because, from the looks of it, she wasn't going home with the real thing.
Last night someone told me that they looked at my artwork hanging like the poet and that it ripped into his soul. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating. But he did say it made him feel... I gathered it was horny.