Born artist, die artist. Africa, art & sex kid, Sydney Aussie teen, bark to States, Midwest architect, NYC flight, 111 E 2nd life, PopArt Greek & Columbia. Drugs/sex, Paris, Yale grad, LSD epifany galaxy 67, Plato speaks, Yale kick, Chicago art scene, Advertising good life, war death, Caribe clean, life w Psycho, art/mania, life study, Espanol kiss, marbled in Italy, more Paris, more Mexico, more drugs, more mania, more art, loss & love, truth & sight. Mexico float. Creation eidos & more life.
posted by Mackerel Gazeteer at 10:00 PM
We’re all afraid to look like fools. Now, isn’t that just the most idiotic thing? Why do we care what others think about us? Well, I guess we are after all pack animals, more like dogs than cats. We need love and approval. Cats need a warm place to lie, food, drink, something to chase, and a good stroke now and then. As editor of this “online” gazette, do I care what you might think of me? Not really. but I DO CARE about what you think of what I am saying to you. I want to scream it all out to everyone from the sacred mount and get you all off your duffs to fix the wrongs man does to others and the world at large. Please, wake up people. but that I were eighteen again, I would forgo the good times, the ivy league and would choose to be the pamphleteer anarchist and revolutionary. Yes, I am old now, and imagine, I am more angry at what I see than I did when I was twenty-five—the events were no better then either.
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