My Diary

I walked June to work followed by ten thousand birds; I came back followed by nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine – June waved with a small bird on her open hand; I waved back with a scale model of the Hoover Dam on mine (I considered painting a fresco on its exposed concrete and then thought of a giant bird several states across – when I am younger I will ride a motor bike from one wing to another). After a breakfast of closed eyes I went out into several deserts in turn, the deserts were named after Saxon queens – I couldn’t remember the names of early Saxon kings. The studio cat was curled around the muzzle of a gun as I shot myself with ideas – when the smoke cleared small people could be seen hanging from the undersides of giant leaves.


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