oh, hey chicago

thanks s.n.

the following images were some of my favorites 

from the SAIC grad show i went to last friday.

 

guess i'm screwed then.

all tiny sugar cubes. 

hey bjork.

shout out from kevin van awesome.

done with ink.

john jines. loved it.

check.

l o v e d    t h i s !

tears were collected from the eyes of each animal in the container on

the floor. 

yes!

s n

we meet 

we greet 

we party.

  

please make me things

brain + hands + tiny things + mass hang out + beautiful aly 

d a n i e l    e v e r e t t

text me.

m i s a k o   i n a o k a

text me twice.

c a s e y   j e x   s m i t h

sir, you are everywhere.

j o h n   c a s e y

do you know eric spalding? did you see his head self portrait

a bunch of years ago?

dear  h a n k   w i l l i a m s   t h o m a s,

sometimes, a slight cross breeze at caryolyn's old apartment

in harlem still feels like this.

please ship all clothes in this photograph to lettuce smith and 

baby gabbie barnes immediately.

thanks.

e t h a n   w o r d e n

check.

dated it.

r e n e e   a d a m s

you must have been with me at the free library in philly

during tour season 2008. thanks dad.

everything is everywhere

the ground hides the stars,

and the floors of every ocean.

Tristes apprêts,

pâles flambeaux,

Jour plus affreux que les ténèbres,

Astres lugubres des tombeaux,

Non je ne verrai plus que vos clartés funèbres.

Toi, qui vois mon coeur éperdu,

Père du jour, ô Soleil, ô mon père!

Je ne veux plus d'un bien que Castor a perdu,

Et je renonce à la lumière

; i've listened to this 1,000,000 times this week.

so the hours should be instructed by the ages,

and the ages explained by the hours.

r. w. e.

the sea was searched,

the land was found,

and all the while,

you slept,

and forgot me.

marked tracks,

the earth surrounds her

the green fog is near

blindly stuck,

her lids take flight

the green fog is near

sea sick arrest,

palms tremble and flood

the green fog is near

and i forgot the way she stayed up at night

and i forgot her voice by light

and i regret the morning aches

loose bones,

cold tide,

ship brakes

she laid

held tight to table ends and eager birds-

the poem that dies inside me

i awake without her

climbing still

feet yelling at the grass

to never forget

the view.

it receives.

daily.

look up child,

and never below

the green fog is near