- Sunday Night Post -

Anything that will make us sweat and gasp. “Stop for tea and gas”. Scratch that. Two cheeseburger and a frosty.

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 - Sunday night post -

Permanganate, 0 colour of crumbling faith, how hard will it get to extract these images out of you ? one way or another, frame after frame, the film has to be done.

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- Sunday Night Post -

A lot of wood is being cut, trimmed, bolted and nailed - Sophia Lauren will reign over it all, gracefully whipping her long lean arms through the empty space…

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- Sunday Night Post -

A bumped scalp for a slow damaged brain and a bunch of burned skin. A Technicolor disaster within a New-York frenzy, a computer crash and many more winds of change. Go ahead Don Quixote you’ll never get crazy enough !

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- Sunday Night Post -

I think Nicholas Ray will have to wait, again. And the broken leg of my stool is resting on Wolfgang’s Magic Flute.

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- Sunday Night Post -

Mentally shralping the tubulars of Zuma beach, we coast for miles and miles for visual food, unravelling all our knots, drinking us up and sideways. Oh Good to Go !

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- Sunday Night Post -

It’s time to clear some junk and make some space for them burning trees. “it’s all about the purity of the structure”

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- Sunday Night Post -

- “Is it you that smell like, huh, chemicals ?” Said the girl who sold used telephones behind a gloomy dark purple counter.

-“shit, it’s sunday.” Bought a damn thing and left.

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- Sunday Night Post -

Malibu is such an ice chest. Nothing but ageless Glorias stealing wallets and taking the purple sea away from our beloved salty skins. Disgraceful land. One should learn how to pronounce his name right.

- Better late than never - 

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- Sunday Night Post -

February 19th. Double feature in Scientology land !

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- Sunday Night Post -

February 26th . Sand tarmac and sweat. Lost money and alternative medicine.

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- Sunday Night Post -

It might be all about the pure gravity of the structure, like the old architect said.

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- Sunday Night Post -

Don’t sit down, you don’t want to be too comfortable. It’ll slow you down and time is running out. Feel and locate everything. Scissors, knife, stapler, tape, film. Strip the film naked, there, fragile and so sensitive.Find the emulsion, kiss it if you need, it’s easier to find that way. It needs love. You’re going to be there in the dark for a few hours.

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- Sunday Night Post -

A.T. : ” So summer is gone, 
Leaving no epitaph.
It’s still warm in the sun,
Only that’s not enough.

All that’s true could have come
Like a five-fingered fluff,
Folded into my palm,
Only that’s not enough.

No evil was slighted
In the good aftermath.
World was festively lighted,
Only that’s not enough.

Life forever was tucking, 
Caring, making me laugh.
I was really lucky,
Only that’s not enough.

No leaves ever seared,
No limbs broken rough.
Day, like glass, washed all clear,
Only that’s not enough.”

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