We Thought, Because We Had

I Don't Think I Have Ever Really Gotten Leopold Bloom's Interior Ramblings Out Of My Head! I Am Sure That Voice Continues To Inspire The Walking Consciousness In My Work - That Is, The Way I Carry On An Interior Monologue As I Walk Through This City.

Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee.

Our Earth Is But A Small Star In A Great Universe. Yet Of It We Can Make, If We Choose, A Planet Unvexxed By War, Untroubled By Hunger Or Fear, Undivided By Senseless Distinctions Of Race, Color Or Theory.

Since Graveyards Are Often Built Over Older Burial Grounds, I Assume Dolores Park Was Probably An Indian, (an Ohlone) Graveyard Before That. I Think The Fact That It Has So Many Layers Underneath The Contemporary One Intrigues Me.

Life Is Not Lost By Dying! Life Is Lost, Minute By Minute, Day By Dragging Day, In All The Thousand, Small, Uncaring Ways...