 Just
your basic unfinished Coca-Cola™
(and hey, who finished much back in '77?) in ink and for some reason, nothing to do with
Rebe's owls; started a collected old Coke™memorabilia but sold it a decade ago, at a
moving sale for a fraction of what it was worth.
An aunt once said you spend the first half of your life acquiring; the second, trying
desperately to getting rid of... predictably, when you're young you don't believe it
I once bragged to Books how I flew Delta™
barefooted from Atlanta and I know he sees me as a dilettante in the fine art of
barefooting, though he's too considerate to mention it.
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Living on the beach is an
unexplainable priority. The funky smell of the bay, feel of fine salt on tender
sun-soaked arms. So you're a melanoma candidate.
Spending endorphins as early as March getting toasty, as the cool air
hits in mid-afternoon because the sun's warmth weakens; sunburned gooseflesh is a
gift. This ink drawing is circa 1975.
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