Idiot Flickr has changed it's sharing function...and this is the result. A random picture on my blog...well, it isn't exactly random. It is from my account and it is another MS Paint Masterpiece.
It's probably a better post than the one I was trying to stick it in anyway.
Showing posts with label Mies Chairs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mies Chairs. Show all posts
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Post #13 Installment 1
Take your pick...
You can leave this world in your sleep...like having a dream of warm milk and snuggling under the covers.
OR
You can go out on the kitchen floor face down in a pool of tears and blood from your ears...stone deaf, your last earthly memory a silent kaleidoscopic vision of floor tiles and nausea.
I bring all this up 'cause Martha bought a Carbon-monoxide detector sometime last week.
First I knew of it was yesterday when I pulled on to our street a couple of miles from the house...I could hear a faint but persistent whirring sound. With every turn of the wheels it got louder until it was a piercing shriek...by the time I pulled into our drive the windshield was wobbling.
I cut the car off...and sat, surrounded by throbbing glass, trying to gather myself to get out of the car. The shriek was so loud that the only other sound I could hear was the hairs in my inner ear snapping like pines in a tornado.
I had to get out of the car...all I could think was that if we're under a nuclear attack I don't want my atoms intimately mingled with the volvo's.
At that point all I knew was that the sound had gotten louder. I didn't know where it was comin' from...but I found out when I opened the front door. There was a burst of pure light and then the silence of the void...the shriek had taken on a physical form morphing into a vision of Jeff Davis sittin' in a Mies' chair with my Great Great Great Grandson on his lap.
I had walked into the violent sound of time and space being ripped apart.
To be continued...
You can leave this world in your sleep...like having a dream of warm milk and snuggling under the covers.
OR
You can go out on the kitchen floor face down in a pool of tears and blood from your ears...stone deaf, your last earthly memory a silent kaleidoscopic vision of floor tiles and nausea.
I bring all this up 'cause Martha bought a Carbon-monoxide detector sometime last week.
First I knew of it was yesterday when I pulled on to our street a couple of miles from the house...I could hear a faint but persistent whirring sound. With every turn of the wheels it got louder until it was a piercing shriek...by the time I pulled into our drive the windshield was wobbling.
I cut the car off...and sat, surrounded by throbbing glass, trying to gather myself to get out of the car. The shriek was so loud that the only other sound I could hear was the hairs in my inner ear snapping like pines in a tornado.
I had to get out of the car...all I could think was that if we're under a nuclear attack I don't want my atoms intimately mingled with the volvo's.
At that point all I knew was that the sound had gotten louder. I didn't know where it was comin' from...but I found out when I opened the front door. There was a burst of pure light and then the silence of the void...the shriek had taken on a physical form morphing into a vision of Jeff Davis sittin' in a Mies' chair with my Great Great Great Grandson on his lap.
I had walked into the violent sound of time and space being ripped apart.
To be continued...
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