i've been avoiding writing much on this page. i'm haunted by my memories. i'm haunted by old files recently exhumed, by a friend recently deceased, by always-present never-active social media connections hovering just out of sight, by critical eyes inside, by things i've said and written and what i think of them and what i think others thought of them.
recently i was at a farmer's market. i ran into a friend running public art-making stations. i did doodles and watercolors, and overheard her talking to someone else and i heard the person say 'pop art!' 'pop art!' - so a bit later i threw out there 'andy warhol!' - my friend was like 'andy warhol popcorn! write that down! we're definitely making that!'
i don't really know very much about andy warhol. but my friend who passed away did. i think.
here is a story written by my late friend. i recently exhumed it. it intimidated me when i put it on my geocities website in the late 90s. now it's clear it was way beyond anything i wrote then or have written later.