BLUE

Marie lives in Little Gransden with her dog Blue.

Blue picks up anything she drops, brings in the delivered milk each day, takes her socks off, removes the laundry from the washing machine, shops from the lower shelves, hands the credit card to the cashier, and posts letters. These are but some of his daily duties. I might be in love. Marie says his mother told him he was a chihuahua.

ROVING BUG BITES

Leaving the itch to wander and stoke drawing.

But home has a mighty nice tug these days.

Pomona land

ann arbor concerts

finger painting

iphone style

no fine lines

i draw ing

doodle buddy and me

crossing paths

Walking into town today I passed a guy out trimming a bush. It was shaping up nicely, but I noticed a willy branch hanging down in the front. Its errant ways were messing with his form. "Get this right here," I said, as he was stepping into the street for an overall look. Startled, he replied, "Yep, I was just clearing the view from the driveway first." We smiled. I continued my trek to outer edges of the art fair.

Several hours and miles of crisscrossed blocks later, and after having paid the artist who let me take a pair of earrings last night with only the promise of a check, I was heading home on First. Suddenly, as if the bricks themselves were talking, a voice leaked out from a stoop. "Go by and check out that bush now," he said. 

who you looking at?

a short movie from the edge; an exchange without words