eating an omelette, drinking red wine, listening to golden brown by the stranglers, thinking of the burning trailer home of a pissed off pikey, writing my landlord a four page fuck-you letter enclosed with a kiss-my-ass.
the corner of my kitchen, the new location of my “office”. i upgraded to a chair from a sub-woofer. there are cables running through my fridge, which stands directly next to me.
resistance to easy categorization
no signature style
never ending change