AND HE SPILLED HIS SMOKE INTO THE AIR

It is our most fervent hope that the solo effort depicted above will one day be transformed by sincere and unselfish affection into a demonstration of the possibilities of real experience. Painted cakes do not satisfy.

THE BLESSED MOLESKINE

TROUBLING NEWS

But the clumsy words! How badly they hurt me, and how clumsy they have made me!

DROWNED MAN'S COLORS

...for your consideration.

ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD

Nature told me I could wake up one morning and not know it.
I told her that then she could salute me with a golden float.
When all these things we have come to love pass by,
the world will be empty and alone.
How strange this place will be without my practicing eye.
How devoid of charm that residue of foam.

BIG NIPPER

Ten ways to Sunday... count 'em!

LEST WE FORGET

THE AGE OF EYES

The first eye, the eye that inaugurated the age, was the sulphur-yellow eye, a luminous ring floating in an overheated grey void, with an infinite pit in its center. Unlike the eyes to come it did not attract or repulse.

The yellow eye was blind; light could not enter it. I saw it when I closed my own eyes, when I prepared myself for a collision, when I lay down intoxicated. I saw it in the noontime sky and I saw it when I dug in the sand. When I saw larger eyes, oval eyes, seeing eyes and hanging eyes I often saw the yellow eye standing behind them, standing back, not obtruding.

The yellow eye was neither friendly nor unfriendly. It never frightened me unless I was trying to think of no eye at all; then it hung on stubbornly. Then I really could not stand it and I would scream into my pillow if I was in bed or into my hands if I was in the schoolyard or at the table.

Later, when the Age of Eyes had ended, I wondered if I had not made a proof of my touristic sensibility by regarding the yellow eye with such incomprehension. Zero understanding, you might say, and you would be right.

THE CALL TO ADVENTURE

From THE HERO WITH A THOUSAND EXCUSES, in preparation.

PARABLES IN PROGRESS

Here is the upper left-hand corner of a large charcoal drawing which I am working on in fits and starts in between other work. More sections will be posted as they are completed until the whole thing is up in widely scattered chunks. Won't that be jolly!

AN APOLOGY

to everyone who has taken the time and trouble to add their comments to these posts and to whom I have not made a proper reply, courteous or otherwise. Believe you me, I appreciate the feedback. I hope to meet you in person one day so I can shake you warmly by the hand or knock your goddam head in, depending.

Spring Cleaning part 1

The Age of Cake! More surprises! Death to the past! No TV in a hospital bed! Lord, give me devotion to you! Stop smoking me up, O Supreme Altruist, I beseech thee!

Spring Cleaning part 2

After pulling in front of my bike on her bike and causing me to simutaneously ditch and slam on my brakes so ferociously that I went over the handlebars, the little waif said, "Sorry," and that was that. My left hand caught the brunt of it, but the elbows were popped open also and the right calf was punctured. This drawing was made immediately after... the surfeit of care taken with it is evident. This little shakeup has ushered in the Age of Cake for good and all. "Now it begins,", says Salvia Divinorum. Stay tuned for part one. Everything has changed.

THE LITTLE SPINNER

Another piece of the previously referred-to image of impropriety gone haywire. This detail puts me in mind of the old man I saw at Larry's Market who was having a red-faced fit because nobody in the store could understand him. He kept shouting that he wanted "swollen foods". It turned out that he wanted frozen foods. What a funny old duffer!

Good Mean Fun in the Desert

We salute the impulse toward bad-natured teasing that has led so much juicy revenge.

PEN AND INK AT CAFE RACER

The earnest little group of cartoonists that gathers Wednesday evenings at the legendary Cafe Racer in Seattle is having a show of their pen-and-ink drawings there. Local practitioners Bob Rini, Kinoko, David Lasky, Dalton Webb, Tim Swope, Tom Dougherty, Jen Ralston, Scott Faulkner, Mark Campos, Max Woodring and myself will have work on display. But that's not all! Justin Green and Carol Tyler contributed a drawing each, making this event a connoisseur's delight. Don't miss it if you can.

WHERE: Cafe Racer, 5828 Roosevelt Way NE Seattle, Washington 98105 (206) 523-5282, two doors south of The Trading Musician

WHEN: Opening party Saturday May 13, 7:00-9:00. Show runs through June 15

He's Not Going the Distance

Zoom in on celestial object.

The Old Pensioner

It's embarrassing to come over here and find him waiting for us, posing like that. He takes himself so seriously now. He thinks he looks regal. It's so sad.

Have you met the sisters?

Nod politely, don't stare, keep moving.

Black and white and ready in June

From PRESSPOP, of course...

A Nasty Piece of Work

This is a detail of a drawing made from a sketch which you can see in the Blessed Moleskine post near the very bottom of this "blog".