a fascistic South African billionaire and an eternally pissed-off Piece of Totally Useless Shit walk into a bar…no, wait; take over a government.  What couldn’t possibly go wrong?*

Meanwhile the Three Forks painting went home to Woodside and I returned to the current way

of thinking as early hints

of spring, a season that has always made me uneasy anyway

[or maybe, these times around, existentially dreadful],

lured us out to the Industrial Luncheonette ahead of a Valentine’s Day

celebrated with takeout from Nani’s and Black Girl Magic Brut. A good time was had by all

despite, and so it continues.

Being February it wasn’t all springlike of course

but nothing like that March at Radar** [1990] when I was building the studio. Gone [well I gone

but it’s still there] but not forgotten; a time when the feet still functioned.  Now they need

Chinese massages for all too temporary renewal, oh um.  A good excuse for a drive downtown…

returning home to find a most amusing conversation between Izel, Luz and Linda in progress.

But always, other days…

springlike or not, the dreadfullness beating in the background.

 

*Too much to list, and ongoing.  Existentially dreaded consequences TBA.

**It comes up as Auld Lang Syne Peak but is zoomed in to neighboring Auburn where Radar was. Is…