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When I cut my hair last week, I saved a piece in a box. I thought maybe someday, someone might want it. Seems off now. But, it's still there.

The rain fills gutters

And, makes a great sound on concrete

Today I miss sitting in my room listening to the rain on my roof. You can't hear it in this house, just one of its few faults.

The formica in the bathroom and kitchen are priceless, though. The kitchen has yellow 60's squares and the bathroom is blue with white Spirograph patterns.

I start thinking if this was my house, what I would do... and all of the plans I had for the horrible knobs on the cabinets.

Sometimes, I look in your eyes

I can see your soul

(I can hear your soul)

I remember when I saw my house in a dream. This isn't it, but it's close. Hard wood floors and arched doorways. I can see it, still. I didn't see what was on the walls.

My studio is covered. Covered. Close to every painting I've done is hanging up. Some in various stages of completion. I left my easel in Colorado during the Great Escape. I never used it. I sit on the floor, in front of what I'm doing... it's easier that way.

Everything is to the right or left.

Everything is to the West or East.

I have a post-it at my desk that has the directions on it, because I haven't gained direction here. I thought it would help if I knew which way home was. It would probably work if I figured out where home was first.

6:36 p.m. - 2002-08-11


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