no, i'm sorry to say, it's about the control and containment of freedom, not the expression of freedom.

animals behave

beavers are

landscape architects.

but now your gone

buttercup and the most bathetic snowman.

buttercup and the nose of mister.

buttercup and the most pathetic snowman in the whole cosmos.

what were they thinking!

come back mister.

is this love, love, love, that i'm feeling?

mister harbor lights.

darkling

destroyer of worlds.

dune winter

extasy of one

extasy of trees

following in His footsteps.

fording the underpass

inner migration

golden wizard

to make the best of what you've left of me, you've left of me, you left me.

mister and a harbor light orb

lookout.

sometimes he doesn't do what i want him to, but he stays with me.

hey pat, is this nike?

sometimes i am annoyed when he steps out of frame.

i suspect i will lean that way forever.

sometimes i might think, How perfect it all is !

inner landing

is it all too much, or too little?

both for you it is neither for reality.

ok i get it, but i just can't change. i'm either too full or achingly empty.

i know, i know (joy of running dog in snow).

my ship stays in harbor though

i look fondly at the launch.

you don't really belong here, but you can at least honor the ghosts that linger on.

submit to me, lily. wait! i'm kidding!

mortal beloved

nest to hide out the vortex

please come to chicago morgana.

immortal beloved

sing sing sing

copp and 63rd

oh! to fly!

at large

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         adore

i had something to say but the spinning wheel of death came and cut my head off and now i feel quite inane you already were i hear you say no i know you didn't say you thought see that's why the spinning wheel of death comes out of the computer and cuts my stupid head off!

oh shit, is that the end? man that really fucks me up. a while ago it had a flow, it was like a walk, it may not have been inspired, but it had purpose. shit, man, i'm really sorry, i wanted to make something good.