Inspired by my love for VW buses and adventures with my friends.

I actually dreamed this entire thing.

Assortment of grimed pots and plates,
email print offs planning dates,
soiled bed sheets and catalogues,
clumps of hair of cat or dog.

Poem.

I was listening to the following piece of music and started to write out some of my scattered thoughts. This poem was the result.

When I was a teenager, I scoffed at the soccer moms who carted their children around in minivans and station wagons. Now I drive one.

A short story.

About Camille Pissarro painting.

Trying to understand man.

A true tale about a camping trip gone wrong.