Lost another blog - makes me long for my manual typewriter

Images
Body

   I was writing about my notebooks and the turning of mere paper and ink into dinero. I'm going to shoot some more from the notebooks now that they are here. The books were on loan to Walker for 2 years. So I have been looking at them and thinking what I want to shoot. Some early books are already yellow. It's easy to tell when I'm broke by the materials and wild contents. The whole of the notebooks is thousands of pages. Going back to the early 1970's or before. A sort of incoherent diary, written and drawn by a part-time madman and professor. All fired up on Loco Weed of course, sometimes though a distinct lack of coherence took me in it's swirly grasp. Figure 1.  The Bust of Ste. Frank Smoking   1986  here show with red plastic filter actually a flourescent transparent plastic. Trying top recapture the Volcano's red glow in Pompei and Herculeam . I rarely do self portraits I don't like pictures of myself. Indeed which of all our images is us in total?  I'm especially pleased by the little bit of blue over the Sephirotic titles in Hebrew. It's just like a little thought inside a bigger thought. A small blue thought inside a large red square. Figure 2.  Miss Rosamund in Photo Space Suit  2012  This again concerns my obsession with women in the Dick Tracy cartoon strip. And Rosamund Felsen a celebrated gallerist from Los Angeles. Though no resemblance exists since I've only met Felsen once . It's a fantasy based on some curious connections to dealer in Chicago named Phillys Kind ( who sold Jim Nutt paintings for many years), now she would wear get ups and others Gracie Mansion also dressed the part (hot dealer) always cool hair. So I think of these resemblances between theses gallery women, hardly knew ya types.  Save Gracie seemed drop dead serious. Now Felsen owed a lot of money to artists she represented my knowledge  hear say from victims and victims advocates. (This is kind of the Dick Tracy manic flow chasing clues and broads!)

 I would have been a terrible cop. No linearity, you have to follow the clues where ever they lead. Listening to Junior Wells blues band with Buddy Guy .  So tonight I meet the suits. Good luck with that . I echo Mr. Wm. Burroughs (typewriter heir) Wouldn't you?