guitar
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I bought a new guitar today. well, not really new: an old Gibson J-45, rich and deep on the low E and A strings, with round shoulders, a wine-red finish and tortoise teardrop pick guard. she was standing in a city pawn shop, beautifully abandoned. she came with an exile’s suitcase and a belly filled…
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the only place an artist really exists (and can forever) is in the imagination of other people. you exist there the way they want you to. of course, other people never want exactly what you want, and see things the way they do. (though secretly i wish for someone to see me exactly as i…
cookie nieves 