Enter again Kirkegaard,Nietzsche,the staggering Rothko,well supported by one Rauschenberg ,ripe,ripped coloring through the in the door,mistook the watercloset for a ball room;which amused all but host.
Ardent wiggled in,escorted by Marx...the some drunken quips harled out by the Irish bards bounced tightly around the salon walls...what's a party without the lubricated Hibernian spouting off about wakes,and swimming birds.
Hell of a party tho.....
Malcolm Mclaren Tacoma Artist
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Hell of a Party
Monday, February 11, 2013
M. McLaren Poem
There are these days, the quiet play
With paper boats, and wings of paper..are through gnarled finger made.
This is my puddle ocean, this kite, well tailed with mothers silk
Rigs me to horse clouds
And air swimming fish.
M. McLaren
Postmodernists
Postmodernists believe that truth is myth, and myth, truth. This equation has its roots in pop psychology. The same people also believe that emotions are a form of reality. There used to be another name for this state of mind. It used to be called psychosis.
Brad Holland
Brad Holland
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