Life On The Road

Slow down, watch for potholes, and always stop to indulge in the strangeness.

Lunar Studies

In an infinite universe, there have to be an infinite number of moons. These are just eight.

Aurora

I went looking for the aurora early this morning, way before dawn. I think the first time I ever saw the aurora was just past midnight in the same town. I was walking home from work at the Science & Engineering Library. The ionized particles were splashing across the upper atmosphere in strange, coruscating streaks, stabbing south across the whole dome of the planet. If I had actually known what was really happening up there, I would have curled up in a ball and screamed. It was very exciting!

There is too much light now. I would have to drive to escape the town’s umbra.

Light Pollution

White Moon

Mother’s Day

We give flowers to mothers because of all the suffering we children have caused them. It is a whole ritual that rises around the rape thing. The male does not plant seeds, it spreads fertilizer.

Inanna

Humanity

If there is any good in humanity, it has proven inept at dealing with the bad in humanity.

Black Moon

My drawing lessons with moons is almost done. There is only the white moon left to finish. That will be eight of different colors. It is just for practice. I may decide to do something with them all later. There are other projects I would like to get done.

As the U.S. legal system flounders, trying to land the big lummox with the little mushroom head, the song of Storm Weather bubbled up from the morass of memory yesterday. It was the day of her theater art critic of a fellow thespian. The play closed after one night. The freak muttered under his breath in his anger and resentment of the woman spilling his tiny secrets of disappointment and brutishness. I am surprised he has been able to restrain himself from posting on Truth Social: “You know it was the best sex you ever had in your life!” Oh yeah, he can’t say that because he maintains that it didn’t happen. His cartoonish character should have steam coming out of his ears, probably just as a dribble. He is getting senile after all.

Never Ending Struggle

Same shit, different day.

Locust, May 4, 1970

Orange Moon

Moons in the night,
moons in the day,
they change to the sight,
they change what they say.

Lampshades

There is always some lampshade trying to keep the Party going.

Excitable Boy

“Monsters from the Id!” Forbidden Planet

Moses and Jochebed by Pedro Americo, 1884

“I stared at Buddy while he unzipped his chino pants and took them off and laid them on a chair and then took off his underpants that were made of something like nylon fishnet.
“They’re cool,” he explained, “and my mother says they wash easily.”
Then he just stood there in front of me and I kept on staring at him. The only thing I could think of was turkey neck and turkey gizzards and I felt very depressed. Buddy seemed hurt I didn’t say anything.”

― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar