Hell's Flowers: Hell's Flowers, Birds of Paradise & the Hangman's Picnic
Words have their own lives independent from their function as describers of real worlds. They hold time and place but also can help us imagine new worlds. They preserve our experience against the dismantling force of death ... This is why Im fascinated with words. As well as a writer, I am a painter and a poet. I teach college art and film classes and work at a variety of tasks looking for satisfaction.
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ain’t angels anyway belly birds birds of paradise blood blue bones brain burning can’t couldn’t dance dark dead dirty doesn’t don’t want door dream dress dust electric eyes face feathers feel Ferris wheel fire flesh flowers Frankenstein girl glass grass green Ha-ha hair hand hanging He’d He’s head hear heart heaven hole horse I’ve Jell-O kill kiss laugh legs light look machine mean meat monster moon mouth naked neck never night numbers Okay Palindrome parking lot picnic pink pull purple rain Santa screaming shadows She’ll She’s Sheila shit skin smell smile someone soul staring stars talking tell There’s They’re thing trees trying turned undt walk wasn’t watch We’ll We’re We’ve What’s window won’t Yeah yellow you’ll you’re You’ve