I spotted this petite gem puff in the East Village. At the awkward time of her puberty's prime when all others her age would be attempting invisibility, she was dancing like a beyond-the-stars champion.
Only one thing she wore was not orange, beige or pale, but it was made of disco-sequins in every shimmying shade of true blue. If she could twist it, snap it, twirl it, or tap it, she was... ARE YOU? EXCLAMATiON POiNT!
THE SECRET to OWL VISION
LIVES in the PRECISION of KNOWING:
1. when to GIVE A HOOT
2. when to RAISE THE ROOF and
3. when to SIMPLY REST IN SILENCE
(((in between the two))))
After one month of navigating the internet Super Fly Way, I have found idea and language sculptures to have increased production in my studio of thoughts. As a word lover, I'm not ashamed to admit... I don't mind the new volume of bird song one bit. DO DARE MAKE A PEEP.
