The rail stations were dead, flowing like bees stung from honeysuckle. The people hung back and watched the ocean, animals flew in and out of focus. The time had come. Yet king dogs never grow old - they stay young and fit, and someday they might come to the beach and have a few drinks, a few laughs, and get on with it. But not now. The time had come; we all knew it. But who would go first?
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Hello, Rrose Selavy
I love Dadaism and Surrealism and everything David Lynchian. So I am making this blog to experiment with all those things.
First! An image! Made in Paint!
It's from a dream I had. Trees! I know, not that surrealist, but I haven't gotten to the other parts of the dream. I will do those in Paint format as well.
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