Wednesday, November 30, 2011

THE SECOND ANNUAL CRISPIES: my favorite moments of inspiration: 2011 (#7)


I always forget this wonderful spinner of superreal escher-twisting vignettes because my brain wants to say "Wendy O. Williams." No, it's not her. Although Wendy S. Walters takes a chainsaw to reality much as WOW took one to snazzy muscle cars. And both seem to have tender hearts beneath their chainsaw wielding and writing persons.

Thank you Adam Robinson and Sommer Browning and Everyday Genius for bringing this wonderful stuff to our attention ...

At a dinner party I am told I sound
just like a famous comedienne
Around the table, my friends nod
to note their agreement

I have never found her funny,
and I tell them this
They say

See! You sound just like her—

THE SECOND ANNUAL CRISPIES: my favorite moments of inspiration: 2011 (#8)


The very very nice and very innocent and savvy and delicate and ferocious and culturally grab-bagged beauty artwork of Bianca Stone. Can I have a brain and finger transplant? Just so I could draw such things, it would be worth it, although I would miss parts of my old life. Maybe just for a day, just to check it out.

THE SECOND ANNUAL CRISPIES: my favorite moments of inspiration: 2011 (#9)


Keste's Pizza and Vino, Bleeker Street, NYC. So puffy and inviting, that I am no longer afraid of hopping aboard trains that go to New York City as long as I have bought a ticket in advance and have a fluffy pillow at the ready.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

THE SECOND ANNUAL CRISPIES: my favorite moments of inspiration: 2011 (#10)


While illustrating ALICE IN WONDERLAND in 1969, Salvador Dali discovers his inner Dave McKean. And Tim Burton. And Edward Gorey. And Ralph Steadman.

Or rather, they find him.


There is very little light in my room and so I thought I would buy some dried flowers and put them in a vase. I have never looked at dried flowers before - my Mother used to buy them and I hated them because they were plastic flowers that looked dusty and faded and terrible. But today they are a wonder to behold - holly berries, dogwood, ginko, cranberry - they are all so beautiful. And in their vases are deep reservoirs of stone, sand, colored rocks, pear potpourri - I had no idea that you could fill a vase with these things and I did not know why you would. But the vases were filled with flowers and these wonderful things. But why?

It occurred to me on the way home that since dried flowers are a form of flower, holly berries, dogwood, ginko, cranberry could be their nutrients - their water. What happened to the flowers had happened to the water. The water is taken away from both and what is left. But why did water take so many different forms? There are all sorts of ways that we are nourished. There are stones, sand, colored rocks, pear potpourri. And I know I am forgetting others. Many others. It is not clear when water is water. Water just seems like water. When it is gone, though, you want to say thank you. You start to see all about what water really does. You start to see what it is. It begins to take shape.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011


I think if you are going to vote on the best facial hair in the Civil War, you cannot know what battles the soldiers fought. You have to stay objective. I always do my best to stay objective. And in conclusion, I love Maj. Gen. Alpheus Williams best of all.


It’s funny with all the things that people write about love that they never compare love to Pequot Percales sheets, a gift of sleeping luxury that is silky soft, cool and lovely, available in snowy white or soft pastels. Their firm even weave resists rumpling, and they keep their lovely refreshing, clean crispness longer than anything else in the universe and even though everyone loves them, still no one ever compares them to love.

Because love is not pastel. Love is white but not like snow. Love is made of silk so it can’t be silky because silk is silk not silky. Love is cool but then hot and sometimes mild like the Spring or that one day in Winter. Rumpling sounds like Charlotte Rampling. Love is not a luxury it is a right. Love refreshes but so does whiskey when it is cool and lovely. Nothing that is firm is love. Love is soft and firm but somehow soft. I know. It’s hard. I think I understand. Or I am trying to. I will. I promise.


Creed Tabarome Millesime, the men's cologne, costs $120. That seems like a lot, but with it you get The Maltese Falcon, Casablanca, They Drive By Night, In a Lonely Place, Lauren Bacall, Africa, whiskey, cigarettes, trench coats, and everything Humphrey Bogart ever saw. Not only that, you also get World War II, Malta, the feel of a big cigar, what Stalin's mustache looked like, the smell of a blue wool overcoat, rain on a battleship and everything else Winston Churchill ever saw including Pol Roger Champagne which is so good you can almost taste it from here. When you think about it, $120 is really kind of a steal for Creed Tabarome Millesime, because four ounces is a lot of Creed Tabarome Millesime, Creed Tabarome Millesime will last a long time, Creed Tabarome Millesime comes comes in a pretty bottle, will give you secret things, precious things, will make you love, will give you memories, and best of all, when someone in the elevator says "Pardon me, isn't that World War II?" you can say, "No, it is Creed Tabarome Millesime," - a terrific name to be sure and I keep Creed Tabarome Millesime in the right drawer where I keep the stuff that I need to be nearby and handy just in case of things.

Friday, November 18, 2011


I saw a movie with the word “angel.”
Because I did, the computer said
I should see five other movies.

The first had a man frowning
at a woman in a blue shadow.

The second had a couple kissing
while a man made a telephone call
holding a gun.

The third had a woman watching a canoe
plunge over the rapids and she was wearing
a tight red dress.

The fourth had an unhappy man
in a trench coat hiding in the alley.

The fifth looked so depressing
I don’t want to even talk about it.

The movies had these words in them:
“ends”, “dark”, “no return”, “foreign”,
“danger.” What’s the matter with me?

I used to like things.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011


The vending machine man says that he never puts Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in the machine until winter because they melt too easily. You always know it’s winter, he says, when you see Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in the machine. And M & M Plain? Everybody hates them. Everybody. Don’t ever look for M & M Plain because you will be wasting your time. But M & M Peanut are everybody’s favorites. Peanut M & Ms will always be there. Everybody loves the Peanut. And the vending machine man sighed.

I don’t know if the vending machine man sighed because he felt sorry for M & Plain or happy about M & M Peanut. But then I remembered that M & M Peanut were everybody’s favorite. The vending machine man was like everyone else, and he was talking about something that was his favorite, so naturally, he sighed. You sigh when things make you happy, like peanuts, not when things make you sad, like plain.

Thursday, November 10, 2011


Terry asked if he was thinking of Elvis Presley when he sang that song.

Tom said, “I am always thinking about Elvis Presley.”

Elvis Presley never thought about Elvis Presley when he sang a song.

He thought about everything in the world when he sang a song,

except Elvis Presley.

Late at night, when everything was sweet and quiet, he would wonder,

What about Elvis Presley? What about Elvis Presley?

Saturday, November 05, 2011


My house is remarkably clean. When I walk through each room, I make a point of polishing a dull spot on a table or picking up a magazine or cleaning a glass or kissing my children. If my children are cleaning up with me, it is much harder to kiss them because they are cleaning in motion although the house becomes cleaner for it which makes me want to kiss them more and so I will stop to kiss them and they will stop to kiss me back and we become dirty with kisses and my house slowly becomes less remarkable.
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