Football

Have a closer look.

A still image from "surfing," a short piece of abstract film.

Just spent the past month on tour. Endured many hardships, not the least of which would be record-setting snowfall. Piles upon piles upon piles. I did get to go sledding in Central Park, though. That was somethin.

Another of those situations where I only wish I'd written the events as they'd happened. In this case, I s'pose the picture can do my story tellin'.

los angeles subway

Like most of you, I never even knew Los Angeles had a subway. I found out this evening, though.

Crazy man with pizza pringles, beef jerky and a pint of ice cream yelled at me. A large Vietnam vet doing pirouettes told me I could be the next "Burt Batcharat."

cinespace, los angeles

I had my ass grabbed 3 times last night, once by a pair of men speaking Dutch.

letter to misprint

I wrote a letter to "misprint." This is the censored version.

RAD

Michael and I recently rode our bikes from San Antone to Austin. Went down some nice old country roads. Met psycho militant caffeine addicts. Got yelled at. Got whistled at. Got honked at. Hot day. Cooled off in Comal and Blanco rivers. RAD.

In n Out burger

Jordan had been craving In N OUt burger all during our L.A. tour. We stopped at one on the way out of town. The food had a soporific effect.

letter from "bill"

Disturbing

Is it just me, or are pinatas shaped like children just a little disturbing?

"The White Whale"

SOUND team's van, "The White Whale," is a beautiful, smelly vehicle. I decided to honor her with a painted mural on her stern.

I didn't do the painting. Greg Jones, sign painter mucho famous-o del Hotel San Jose, did her up. I struck a deal with ole Greg-- I dug a ditch for him, he painted the van. He also made me a large salad.


I broke my back on the East Texas red clay for 8 hours digging a roadside ditch while Greg hand painted the graphic from my computer design.
Greg Jones-- brilliant man. A magician if I've ever seen one. Or, uh, wait. Not a magician, a painter.

It is.

S.W.A.K. = random clearinghouse. Collections of paintings, pictures, poems, paeans, puns. To be collected and bound and placed high on bookshelves, sometime in a musty future. As more content arrives, the blog may take a clearer shape. Revelations will ensue.


And I will finally answer that oft-heard question "Who moved my cheese?"