I want to go on a bike ride.

For six hours.

And I don’t want to talk to any fucking people.

I only want to talk to dogs.


Laura Volkening Mother print, colored pencil Incredible! I feel bad about the fact that I apparently carried the scent of stale beer around at the Young Contemporaries opening. I still admired the art, I promise. Photographed by Katy

The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heav’n of Hell, a Hell of Heav’n. – Milton.

Truth be told, I think I would have enjoyed myself more at the 7 hour reading of Paradise Lost Friday night than I did at the show and pantheon…