On display at SFMOMA. This is pretty much the holy grail of it’s art, dad. Which is how my tag is suppose to read, but the tagging system separates by commas so I had to combine it into one tag.
picnics; wedding-planning; jet-skiing; gin-running across frozen Lake Huron with my bearded uncles; heated matches of tennis with my up-country rivals; correspondence with Yvette, the most comely of my second-cousins; soiled linens; giving alms to the shivering and suffering poor in their dingy clap-houses; keeping my powder dry; living outside my means; sipping nervously at hot Tom and Jerrys in hotel lounges under jaundiced, harsh lighting; wearing straw boaters set at rakish angles; trotting the glum marshes; marsh wiggles; gwiggles; waxing down my pith helmet/blunderbuss; being as true as turnips; upturning apple-waggons; going to the mall; mending butterfly nets; sending and receiving post; geomancy and general ghost-bottling; being better at closet lemur massage than my friend Will