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Fine Morris paper on the walls; waterstained and sagging. The plaster ceiling was bellied in great swags and the yellowed dentil molding was bowed and sprung from the upper walls. A broad staircase ascending. A child's bicycle.
A red formica table. A spoon in a bedside drawer. In the floor was a green brass ringpull. A bearded man appeared blinking at the foot of the stairs; then, one by one, they turned and blinked in the pitiful light.
Scrolls of fallen wallpaper: it's a dog.
He left the boy sitting on the stairs holding the coats while he w
by ~Radience-del-Eel
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- Current Residence: 66 Exeter St.
- Favourite artist: Robert Rauschenberg, Francis Bacon
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many of my images can be purchased through my website [link]
my 2010 calendar can be purchased through red bubble:
[link]
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I'd rather die than become anything like everybody. I hope I die before I ever start to feel, start to feel ordinary.
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Black is beautiful
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You mean do something fun? I have no training for that!
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absinthe = broadband for the soul
Thank you,
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Only an artist knows what he meant to say with his work,
and sometimes you'll need to deal with it.
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