let's decorate!

I can move in next week!

I am going to attempt, once again, to achieve and maintain, a modern,
minimalistic look / feel.

Here is the photo that will keep me on track..




to have a personal photo, blown up, and mounted on anything from acrylic to raw aluminum is expensive.
I don't have a couch or a coffee table.. I have.. one blow-up mattress, a velvet chair and a storage cube. oh, and one TV tray. I am leaving the area rug here. Well.. just thinking out-loud.



I also want a 'sideboard' .. I could shoot myself - I found a vintage, stereo console / cabinet at the Goodwill, a couple of weeks ago for $30 and didn't buy it. omg, how stupid! It looked like this



only in a dark wood. I just found a few online.. for $350!

I have stuff in, March Issue of Eye Socket Journal

http://eyesocketjournal.tumblr.com/

i have a poem in..

UNLIKELY

The Flutter King is a Loneling

It's All Up To The Winged Woman Of The Night-Eye Clan

Tall and
slim she once was The Search that purred
now herding
the last of the whimpering
beasts through abandoned villages of thatch
feral chicks run amok
She is following
The Man carrying The Book of Distant Galaxies
he is traveling with his baby owl
to the little
clay
Throne of Faith
elsewhere The Gatherers are already boarding the train
that casket of mildew
that moving nest of secret incubatina
O yeah
this is real hunger and not a game
the graceless alligator of life
plods along and
Death stops to scribble
on many a sooty shelter door
reminding her to keep the herd moving
to keep the rifle loaded

++++Tales From Topographic Oceans (complete album) - Yes

Love You - Syd Barrett (The Madcap Laughs)

Daphne Odora

Daphne Odora came into this world surrounded by the first snow iris blooming in the ruins of the once great rotunda where the rousting & roasting of the false Sky Prophet took place. That scal(l)awag. On the morning of her birth .. the turn of the whales had special meaning— a strange liturgy of myth and wind, breaking the wave patterns on the twelve holy shoals— paper-white & sparkling * in the near distance— crimped bees buzzed through the golden light as we collected the first mutter nectar just for you until the bent things trussed by their own chrysalis exploded all along the bulwarks like the blazing stars suspended over your cradle * * * * * * * * * * * * broken clouds, through the east hang low— lightning crawls : a light show blooming out— we sing glad hymns our voices a scintillatingly mix of all the world's emptiness uprooted & the painted angels on the walls— just another wreckage of colors falling plunging wings of white— a sequence of holes in the elegant arches of this small steeple