Rain on Sunday or About The Work
A trip to Sweden, a finished novel, and some wildly expensive oysters...
Three Beers
Alone at a beer joint in Budapest, I hatch a plan to drift through three bars, meeting lovers and ghosts along the way. Their message is clear: fuck it all, stop hiding, be seen.
Two Dreams
A tumble through ants, poison flowers, and the dark stone steps of Budapest. Was it memory, dream, or just Ludwidge’s tea pulling me down into shadows?
It Started in Indio
Day 1 had gone tits up, that's for sure.
On Enrichment
What I’m realizing, as I sit here on the balcony, is that money is little more than a byproduct of my piling up experiences and knowledge and somehow sharing a reflection of them with the world.