hitchCock is sitting sideways . . . my pup is dreaming , running in place
the late nite air, cool. . . damp , a wee bit muggy for late May

nibblin' on my homemade oaTmeal cookies , whilst cravin' rice pudding
thoughts organically drift . . . I think about an alter ego , my femme part . . . so very long ago

I called her my 'lil rice puDDin'

thinking back to a few hours earlier:
I was wandering lost-like in a used bookstore , as a light rain danced thru the Friday nite air

I ended up in the photography books
some of the modern pics from today's youthful photographers catch my artist eYe . . . I re-imagine their images with my creative twiSt. . .

ok back to present: drifting nuDe , dreamlike . . . at the soft fuzzy edge of the wee hours ...

my stream of consciousNess mode kicks in deeper

my mind is a late nite Jazz experimental guitarist . . . not knowing jus what chords are pLayin'
next . . .

I have also been told my mind is wired like an artist's . . . I do not know what that means , I am not Picasso
my so-called art is crude at best
my words simple. . . my images, cheap . . .

I do not have a magazine writer's snap. . .

I am what I AM
organic, mostly
my workings of creative expression

to BE coNtinueD . . .