every neighborhood needs a Fuckyu Tree. 

Ballard. 

I don't know what these are, but there's a patch of them near my steps and they're soft and innocent enough to make me question my throbbing atheism. I deem them "Puppy Ears."  

Sunny day self-portrait, 11th & Olive. I am carrying yellow tulips and that fucking Sonny Bono painting. accompaniments: Mexican Coke, a Starbucks cup, and a single-shot of cheap vodka.  

from the top of the Columbia Tower you can see the curvature of the building. they said that about the Concorde too... it goes so fast passengers can see the curvature of the earth. 

every time I think the phrase "Ballard Locks" I do so with an obnoxious Scottish accent. I cannot be the only one. 

wee salmony things. 

yet another set of Murderin' Stairs in Queen Anne. 

when I first encountered this guy, he was staggering across the sidewalk with a petal clinging to his back. I crouched down to attempt a video (with the intent of helping him afterwards, of course; I'm not a monster) but the petal flew away. how cumbersome must that be to a bee? would it be like us walking down the same sidewalk and a scummy mattress falling on us? 

I could pretend this is, like, my stupid roundabout homage to "Tapestry", but it's really just me in my slob clothes and Entropy not running away. 

a hasty photo of cool reflections. 

this looks much more disgusting than it tasted. radishes and butter and salt, oh my. 

I took this by accident, but I really fucking like it. 

I find the reality of multiple boxes, fully intact and unused, of this horrifying product more worrisome than the product itself. was Presto kind of like Amway, and someone in the 70s thought they'd get rich selling this sort of thing, and they finally died and the family had to go through all their belongings, and stacked in the garage were all these? 

i guess that's kind of morbid, but that was the first scenario I manifested. 

my pride and joy. 

*

"write down everything you fear in life. 

burn it.

pour herbal oil with a sweet scent on the ashes." 

-Yoko Ono

scenes from a month

I've been busy. these are in no particular order. 

Pike Place Market. 

my Happy Metal Tree. 

Cal Anderson Park. 

jungle boogie. 

and shutting me up. 

a fancy-assed bottle. 

is that a guitar pick in your Lego box, or are you just happy to never mind.

on top of a large pile at the Fremont Sunday market. the store hasn't existed in decades. I always loved that logo. 

accidental antennae. 

fucking goddamn totchos. 

and a froglet at the zoo.