The fire, the flames and you… You are my river of joy and my muse in the mist of confusion. I have hurt myself often, set fire to my dreams and watched my… Continue reading
The rising sun.. I sat in the New Orleans in 1996. I liked New Orleans. Hard time and hard days couldn’t kill her spirit. I drank whiskey with old men and pretty women.… Continue reading
Big Sur Big Sur, God’s country. Big Sur, canvas for the painter, poetry for the eyes of the beholder. Coyote