Wednesday, December 24, 2008

it took 32 hours per mile


t. holding court




p. (mouth full): a. (sr.)




all - me




a. (jr.), t. & gmom





for my mom, being a grandmother simply means more toys




i always see something new when i return home: this was in the backyard: notice the rusting hammer: probably been there for years




i'm not sure what this door is doing here: been this way for years




i'd rather not ask where this came from




this was the garden that i made with my mom some years ago: half of it has since been relegated to the grand-kids for use as a sandbox: there appears to be a wheel from a car in the sandbox: again, it is best not to ask questions about such things




m. & b.



b. & b.




t.




this was my second room: when i left home, it became something else: if anyone is curious about where my penchant for alcohol came from then this ought to suffice for an adequate answer: i hope to bring a.k. here someday, & let him stay in the room for a few weeks:

the following photos are a little jumbled in order



this is a part of a door panel that my dad & i picked up in santa fe when he took me to college in 1998: there are 8 carvings based on the kama sutra: it was a gift to my mother: made us all laugh




strangely phallic corkscrews




corks go here




photo of me with statue of dionysus in rome: dad on the left, somewhere else




brother in law and sister a. (sr.) putting together presents




testing presents on xmas eve




mom's bag collection




mom's toy collection: spider man & richie rich comics




mom's "workshop": there is a tractor seat in the left hand corner that i found on a roadside in montana & brought back for her knowing she would put it to good use




found this, apparently belonging to me: 1991-1992




my books still safe in the blue bins




i am staying in the odd room, my first room, that is perpetually going through changes: i am the only one that ever seems to venture into this lost corner of the house: i think my mom tried to make me feel @ home by making the room as strange as possible: it worked




mom's plans for the room written on the wall




very odd: i think i bought the pastel of the clown in paris when i was 15 or 16: how something so horrendous ended up in a frame, i'm not sure: though i am a bit touched that my mom actually held onto it: perhaps it was bought for this purpose...to hang above my "guest bed" 15 years later




mom's license plate collection




this is for t. phillips




all of us: i am second from the left: the only boy: the only one looking @ the camera




corner of 16th & bannock, in boise: for a.m.g.




:



a.m.g.




somehow it ended up in my basement:




on the way to dayton: this sign didn't help @ all




i enjoy this for obvious reasons




p. & t.: i am letting t. sleep with 2 of my prized lambs, pictured here: names, baby & mary




found an old high school t-shirt (luggage lost, for now) & took a portrait in the bathroom




my mom doesn't seem to buy soap or shampoo or lotion: she gets it all from hotels all around the world & stashes everything wherever there is space




this is the window i used to sit outside of and smoke cigarettes: my first childhood bedroom: the window has since been bricked-off: no one goes into this room anymore (same as the odd room above)

3 comments:

Unknown said...

i fucking loved this post.

Unknown said...

I really don't know what else to say. E.Rose said it all. This is an amazing post. It makes my heart hurt.

on being lean and vaudevillian said...

You're supposed to give the carts to me, not put them on your own blog, sucka!