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Here I thought you all didn’t like me no more, but it was just something wrong with this post.
You couldn’t comment on it if you tried.
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I fixed that.
So, blaze away.
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Namaste.
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Smokers
18 Sunday Mar 2012
Posted in Uncategorized
The Dishwasher's Tears
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Finally I can comment on this!
I love it.
Yay!
(this is what I wrote when I laid eyes on this piece when you first posted it–I tried and tried to post the comment that day to no avail):
Katrina New Orleans sat on a couch with her bestest friend smoking a cigarette while they floated out to sea.
I’m probably going to dream about these women tonight. Probably because my eyes saw New Orleans, saw these 2 women in the flood of that storm calmly smoking before I saw what was really going on.
Who needs drugs?
Not me.
This piece reminded me of how much I loved smoking when I was a smoker. My god, I savored each cigarette. I never smoked thoughtlessly or carelessly. I felt like I was toking on a firefly. Each cigarette was magical, moving, monumental.
I especially loved smoking in the rain, and the snow. I felt like my brain shifted into a whole other world when something was falling out of the sky and I was carefully inserting puffs of smoke in between those raindrops or snowflakes.
Thanks for that memory, brother.
I think I’m slowly finding my way back to who I was and some of the stuff I used to love. Been lost and gone for too long.
Laurel-
I am always enriched by your reactions to my work, they bring in a whole new world that really makes the images rock. thank you!