Author’s Note: It’s been a long, lost weekend. Two or three, I suppose. Teeth out. Pills in. Grind, suffer, succumb. Repeat. It’s been a time for reflection. A time to reconsider the skin and the way I’m spent in it. A somber seance, in flashes but also a celebration of the here and there and then and NOW! that I’ve come to collect and hold dear through fortune and folly and one decidedly concentrated M (a gift in any context). All that said, what’s pictured here is an evening unsupervised, neck deep in the grist of worry and boozing self-satisfactory nonsense called up just after the sun sets but before the irascible itch of the next sets in. It feels lovely, on reflection. Damned, stupid and deliciously true.
Flesh World – The Wild Animals in My Life (in pictures)