*

The last Burchell’s Zebra died in the London Zoo in 1910.

*

This piece is my first experiment with trying to recreate the dioramas I remember from the Museum of Natural History. What they felt like to look at. What it made me feel inside to look at them. Thrilling and infinitely sad, they filled me with longing and wonder and despair.

*

The woman on the verge is out shooting with our new camera.

She will bring home wonders.

*

Last night I made a risotto with garlicky shrimp and bacon topped with sliced green onions, a riff on David Chang’s shrimp and grits.

It were good.

*

We watched “The Shooting” on our Netflix on demand. A 1966 Western starring Warren Oates, a young Jack Nicholson, and Millie Perkins. It was just about the best damn thing I ever saw and odd as a two-headed duck.

I don’t know what all to think about it.

*

We watch movies like a couple of crack addicts. The odder the better. It’s like a damn art house cinema around here. French, Italian, Hungarian, Japanese, Korean, Spanish, old, older, new, whatever. Noir. Experimental. Indie.

It’s a hell of a thing.

*

I took the dog for a walk and it depressed me. Can you believe that? Now I’m all fucked up. Not that I wasn’t before. The world just seems ugly right now.

Not seems.

*

But I like those Zebras all right.

***

Namaste.

*

Advertisements