we all rotate

through a window on Pike Street.

moistness outside my lair. 

for fuck's sake, seattle. 

casu marzu in candle form.  

look at this wee li'l trouper! out of the alopleciac ashes of my fucking schefflera emerges a zygote of optimism! the quarter is for both scale and patriotism. 

I seem to look down a lot. this was in Fremont. 

oh my gourd, another hand picture. 

there's always a photo opportunity at the Broadway QFC. 

chicks getting shit done. 

fuck your earnest gruel. 

my neighborhood. 

I have a crush on this building. it's like my dream background for my 3rd grade school picture. 

fucking awesomeness emerging on 7th. 

I live here. 

in my dream the other night I was being interviewed. I was asked about a mutual friend. I described them as "being overly tangential and relying too heavily on pronouns." the room was windowless and the walls were orange. and then I woke up. 

the ides of February!

a few months ago I was walking downtown and I saw where someone had stepped in dog shit and tried to scrape it off their shoe. the smears lasted an entire block. I imagined someone getting progressively more irate, probably cursing loudly (as I would), late for work, staggering furiously like why the fuck won't this shit come off. I imagined them getting where they were going and angrily recounting the incident. 

...and I was reminded of that when I saw this god damn it! umbrella crumpled on Denny.  

progress continues. last week: 

so much different shit happening in this photo! angles and rebar and porches and the musty musk of destruction! 

*

and this week: 

an impromptu Starbucks cup-fence has arisen from the ashes. Dave, you're a filthy litterer. 

someone has upgraded the vile Spring Break tag. 

never ignore a lightpost. 

I didn't notice the owl until after I took the picture. 

on the other side of this is a stairwell. the door in the background vaguely reminds me of that fucking rabbit sitcom in Inland Empire. I find that a lot of poorly-lit innocuous-yet-sinister shit reminds me of that movie. 

the u district. Grey is a state of mind, baby. 

Fremont. 

at this time of year, the sun doesn't often set. the sky just grows darker. 

"man, n. an animal so lost in rapturous contemplation of what he thinks he is as to overlook what he indubitably ought to be." -Ambrose Bierce 

such a hoot

chronological order, as opposed to utter mayhem in which time is flagrantly nullified!: 

south lake union. I went to school a block away from this, when the neighborhood was comprised of derelict factories and bohemian doss houses and the out-of-place cafe where I had genmaicha tea for the first time. Jesus, it was only a few years ago. my disorientation when I walk here now, represented by a clumsy Holga filter:

Avonex fever of 99.7. every fucking week. time to be narcissistic! ...I complain about it a lot, I know. note the pathetic blanket. 

the seeds are the most picturesque part of any plant. an embarrassment of fertility! 

my first thought when I initially viewed this lair was "holy shit, she's gonna love these windows." 

people in Greenwood just fling their dog shit all over the damn place. actually, this is a pretty sociologically representative olio of rubbish: coffee cups and energy drinks and neatly bagged dog shit, all close enough.

and behind the trash can, this. undoubtedly there was much "oh you!" clucking at the business licensing shoppe. 

another methified lightpost on the hill. 

lines and angles on Pike. 

and a desolate Cal Anderson. 

and another view of tonight's lusty sunset. 

tonight I was thinking of different plays on "giraffe"- hey, like "girafferent"! that just came to me as I'm writing this- and I couldn't figure out to draw "giraffia" (a giraffe wispily encircling a wrapped package?) or "giraffiti", but this is the misspelled version, aka "giriff-raff." I realize that giraffes' bodies ideally do not look like this. 

giraffish! 

sure as heckfire!

flying back from Denver. we surfed the sunset for about an hour. I am still like a little kid with window seats. those who lower their shades on airplanes have shriveled souls, I am certain. 

Sunday morning. watch out, the world's behind you. 

Broadway. and how. 

my dad taking a picture of Seattle. 

my neighborhood. 

my first thought when I saw this was "oh jeez" in a bad Minnesotan accent. 

Entropy in her newest aerie. I love living in places with cattable refrigerators. 

the self-checkout queue in the weird upper level of the thoroughly incongruous Broadway QFC extends down the foot & diaper aisle. otherwise I would have never noticed this. 

"how's your life going?"

"heeltastic as fuck."