ARTICHOKE CAROUSEL

Pulled this from Mark Jenkins site. He’s a genius. He’s seem to found a way to thoroughly disturb me. I’m pretty sure I saw one of his tape babies in Los Angeles.

MARK JENKINS

These men are shaped to look like god dudes

He looks like a totalitarian dictator here.

Here’s the rest of it—the mural style kinda reminded me of Diego Riveria.  Well, sort of.  Either way, the one damn thing that’s good about having a home-bound illness is it influences a person’s perception of the things he/she sees everyday.  It’s pretty excellent to run into these things on a daily basis, and I’m glad I’m able to show people these things (if people are reading at all…)

Here’s more of the painting I saw on the street—I saw this on the way to the doctor’s office, and I thought for a brief moment, that maybe this is how the doctor would make me feel: orgasimcally blue.  

I have good news and bad news, and both pieces of information are the result of one man: a Doctor.

The bad news. The jackass kinda upped my dose of Synthroid and Valacroxonin so now I feel drunk and dizzy a lot, and my lymph nodes are as senstive as prostates. This goiter has become a mountain I have to climb—a beast mother that I have one day euthanize.

The good news is I discovered this lady looking down at me as I walked into the doctor’s office. Really fun art, she has an unreasonably long back though, and the green dress made me wonder if the artist matched it to the awning.  I’m sure he or she (I’m not a crazy feminist) did.  Anyway, I like the idea of fitting art in whereever you can.

Had an idea for a drawing the other day. Now all I need is a melting clock and a mustache that a bird could land on.

Feeling a little less medicine-loopy today. Less vain about my neck, though because of the swelling it feels like a person’s hand is around my throat at all times. I guess you could say…I sense it all the times. It’s this blurry and blunt thing in the corner of my vision, like a car following me in the distance. I finally mustered up the personal strength to leave home without a turtle neck, and even so I got stares at Ralphs.

I went walking this morning because my neck felt more bloated then usual.  No one tells you that when you have a goiter, and you’re on Synthroid, the decrease in blood iron for some reason has psychosomatic consequences: where you can somehow FEEL the blood iron leaving your body.  I took pysch 1301 in college and the theory is a chicken or egg thing:  does the person feel angry and THAT causes tension and clenching of fists?  Or does the person BECOME angry because he or she clenches her fists and tenses up. 

 All I know is that I had high blood iron, and developed a nasty goiter, and now its getting lower.

For all that are concerend, the goiter is about the size of a golf ball right now.  Really annoying looking.   

Anyway, so I went walking and decided I would show everyone where “Homeless Cove” is:  this picture is where a new homeless man/woman stays every night.  It’s like an Inn, except no continental breakfast.