Walking down to the taco truck today, I came across a dream: I would very much enjoy being the owner and operator of this vehicle. The realization that if I weren't a smoker/recovering alchie, I would be able to afford my fantasy ride (has been since high school) verged on enlightening, but mostly felt like remorse.
Just a few of copious pieces which were brilliantly created by Sarina Brewer. She's a founding member of MART (Minnesota Association of Rogue Taxidermists-- of which I hope to be at most a working member in the future) and for reason quite obvious, the object of my god lust. I would amputate my right arm so that she might use it in one of her works. Not only is she wondrously talented, she's also kind of a babe.
nothing is still not me shaking thoughts pace arms folded uncross hanging loose threadbare holy unsightly frail limbs or lashings braided tight taught celestial fictitious love power forgot not forgotten subconscious repetition constant here gone not long but enough entirely uncertainty breeds silent wonder what slips half grasped react unwelcome accumulate restless dialog internal span spred wide less limited contact lacks absolute physical need tangible apparition conversation impossible space waste and vast referential unknown anxious derivative solitude lacks elegance vs. arrogance gorge gorge gorge gorge gorge gorge gorge
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