Blanche's Story Part 2

The Inlaws ended up tagging along on Blanche & Buck's honeymoon, just basically being rascals and ruining everything.

They never did anything without a reason, and this intrusion was no accident.

Blanche talked very sweetly to Buck to get him to change their plans, but he never seemed to be able to listen.

Then Bonnie & Clyde started acting real badly, shootin guns and pointing them everywhere.  Especially after Bonnie got hurt.

Blanche wondered how things came to pass, their marriage not 2 months behind them.

the end





photos by Armen Stein
Starring Amber Rose Cutlip, John Leith,
Ryan Sanders, Kirsten McCory & Andrew Duncan
Gemkow

Blanche's Story Part 1

Blanche was real sorry to see Buck go back to prison, but she just knew things would work out for them in the end.






When he got paroled, they immediately tied the knot.
She was so happy.

But then things got bad fast.                  

First the inlaws showed up unexpectedly.

They were badly behaved and generally caused a mess.




But still it was kinda fun, so Blanche thought that maybe ALL WAS NOT LOST

But then she wondered.  

photos by Armen Stein

Starring: Amber Rose Cutlip as Blanche

John Leith as Buck

Ryan Sanders, Kirsten McCory & Andrew Duncan Gemkow as the Inlaws

Light vs. Dark

This girl, this woman, right now she stood in the light, but she could still into see the darkness.

The light is no place to be, she used to think. It's just too easy to see.

But the darkness, t was right over there, divided from the light by a long spear like shadow.

She looked up and she saw the stars over all, fancying she could see galaxies and shooting stars.

Acorns fell, she heard them, she saw the dark, she stood in the light.

The river rushed on.  

The darkness always calls, she thinks.  There are creepy things in there, things that beckoned.  Ugly things, true things, beeeeeeooooootiful things.

But you don't have to spend all our time over there, she thought.

It's ok to stand in the light.

 ??????????????????????

The Artist & His Muse

The muse had turned ugly.  She turned violent and grasping.

The artist became distant.  He was airy and wary of this new found dynamic.

The Muse snared her artist and crushed him between her powerful tresses.

The Artist fell to the floor as dried pieces of pigment flickered softly, down.

The paint quickly covered him and shielded him from her wrath.

His Muse intoned:

I AM IN YOUR HEAD FOREVER

UNTIL I AM PURGED

BY ANOTHER

          Yes! I purge you!                            I purge you with another!

He screamed. 

The flakes rattled madly and maddeningly.

He, the Artist, struggled in vain.

The Muse enraged, grew bored and left.

He rose and resumed his painting,

vowing never to hire another model off Craig's List again.

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sketch by Wyatt Landis

The Magic Plant Rules My Life

Farewell Nicotiana!
My cancer stick, my early grave!
My friend.  My boss.  My lover.  My-




It wasn't always this way.  Used to be I only fantasized about smoking, I never would have done it.  But look at those beautiful cool people inhaling smoke and breathing it out, air made visible!  And I learned the myth of Prometheus giving us fire, stolen from the gods.  And the accessories, don't get me started.  Carved ivory cigarette holders, platinum cigarette cases, tins with awesome graphics.  So I was basically fated to start smoking.  And once you've breathed the fire and the smoke and the carcinogens and plant and drug, it's very hard to get away from.



-demon who comes out smoking from a processed plant grown thousands of miles away.  A rolled up piece of paper with dry leaves that makes you stink and take frequent breaks.  A plant that controls you psychologically making you think that you always need more, even if you don't need more.  A drug that you might continue to take in even when you have a hole in your neck that you speak thru.


But I used to do stuff without a cigarette! All the time.  I think I was smoking when I first learned to drive, so maybe no that.  But I would walk, sit outside.  Play.  But now that thing is usually with me, my companion or my medication.  What did i do with my brain before I thought about whether or not it was time for another cigarette.  If I was 17 when I started, I hadn't been using my brain that long anyway.  It became an early established pattern.
And I have quit before, thank you.  The longest was for 6 years, another time for two years.  I enjoyed my non-smoking time.
Other times I have tried to quit and failed, embarrased and disappointed but so glad to have a cigarette again!  
Something pulls me back in to the morass.



Farewell Nicotiana!
I knew you, I held you in my mouth yet you remain
a mystery,
a master
a Plant.

The Hill

Are you kidding?  I can just put on my seven league boots and step over to that mother fucking hill.

The one with the red spires that blink and blink and blink and blink.

But I do not wish to go there now, it bores me.
I once lived on that hill's underside, rather like a friendly tick.
Detesting those I moved among because they were more privelaged than I.
Little did they know of my future revenge!
I will stay here and watch.

The other direction, you know down town, to the s.w. of where i stand overlooking, over watching,
there are buildings built tall in order to intimidate me.  Pah! I could merely step one dainty foot in that direction and they would crumble, if I wished.

I do not wish to crushing them right this mother fucking moment.


To the east, ah I unfortunately cannot see in that direction from my perch so I ignore it.


But I survey all that lies before me!
Not to destroy although that may be in my plans.
No stand here and survey and think, "WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN" and "WHY ME?"

(I know I'm the queen stop interrupting me with that!)

I see
the red spires, the sour tall buildings and the water and then mountains and then....

Why after that I really do not know.

I travelled beyond the mountains several times and found long stretches of sand, windy and grey, driven endlessly by trucks.

I could not control those lands and so I backed away.

Here it just comes naturally.

How many steps of my boots would it take to get me back there now?

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