This weekend I've gotten more cultured than a kimchi sandwich, but don't kefir! I'll tell you about it.
Last night I enjoyed a Delmas Howe exhibit and got to meet the man. This afternoon I attended a poetry reading that I didn't hate. I kind of liked it, but keep that to yourself.
My friends Annie and David are returning tonight, and so I'll be moving on soon. Annie makes wonderful ointments, salves, and unguents. A friend in pain tried some of the Añil de Muerto ointment and said it began to help immediately. The body butter caused a woman to sniff me on more than one occasion, so I suggest you buy it by the pound. She will mail it, or, if you're in the area, check her at the farmer's market or just call - she accepts drive-by customers.
Here's what Spud looks like before I hit the ignition and begin the process of crapping up the joint:
I have accumulated a few more clothes and a lot more books.
It feels like I have more shoes, but that's an illusion.
I like Truth or Consequences! People asked me if I make art, and I began to reply that I don't, I just like hanging out with people who do. That's not hard in T or C. It's also not hard to grab a serious coffee jones from visiting the cafés in town - truth. Go with it; you can get the bean off your back later. Consequences.