“Aside from not representing faces with accuracy, painting was an area of strength for him.” — hypothetical neuropsychological evaluation of Picasso

Life occurs in an abscess, in our absence, in our backwards mess.

Pictures of hamsters really are hit or miss, aren’t they.

I think more poets should keep their poetry open and their mouths shut.

From the Walla Walla Freecycle list: “We are in need of sand, a trampoline and a guinea pig.”

I always thought I was Eurydice, the one others look back at. Turns out, I am Orpheus, the one looking back.

My life is all Junes and Januaries.

I came up with a classification system for forms of intelligence last night in a dream: inherent/automatic, enforced/shaped, developed/honed, atrophied, symptomatic and received.

In the end, remaining open might be all that matters.

I washed my dog. I love my dog.