Saturday, January 3, 2009
Madam, I'm Adam ...
Lucy has a Secret Garden that can be entered only through a tiny door, and HBA Lucy and I gathered around the table there.
Meanwhile back at the gallery (earlier) ...
Someone flew into my apartment above the gallery, where HBA, Lucy and I were hard at play, working on the fleas, with lucy showing off her new mini car. He was born today. The newbie's name was Adam Greybeard:
HeadBurro Antfarm: You passing by or looking for the gallery?
Adam Greybeard: i want to sell real world art
Enjah Mysterio: you DO?
Enjah Mysterio: OH!
HeadBurro Antfarm: Really? Enjah is your woman!
Adam Greybeard: yes!
Enjah Mysterio: what sort of work do you do?
Enjah Mysterio shouts: lucy?
Enjah Mysterio shouts: are you OK?
Adam Greybeard: yes
Adam Greybeard: thanks
Lucy Tornado shouts: nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Enjah Mysterio: no lol lucy
Enjah Mysterio: is lucy ok
Adam Greybeard: brb
Adam Greybeard: cigarette
Enjah Mysterio: eeuw
Enjah Mysterio: where IS lucy?
HeadBurro Antfarm: i've no idea...
Enjah Mysterio: there she is
HeadBurro Antfarm: Has Adam gone?
Enjah Mysterio: he is smoking I guess
time passes ...
Adam Greybeard: i am back
Enjah Mysterio: hi
Enjah Mysterio: did you have a cigarette in your eye?
Enjah Mysterio: or what?
Enjah Mysterio: did it drop on your thigh?
Adam Greybeard: no
Enjah Mysterio: Adam?
Adam Greybeard: nup
Enjah Mysterio: why did you have to leave?
Adam Greybeard: i smoke it with delight its the smoke
Enjah Mysterio: ok well, it was a sudden thing
Enjah Mysterio: seems rude to me
Enjah Mysterio: you could have waited a bit, couldn't you?
Adam Greybeard: i could have
Adam Greybeard: should have
Adam Greybeard: i am a prophet
Adam Greybeard: my sketches are worth much money
Enjah Mysterio: oh please
Adam Greybeard: i am Stylae
Enjah Mysterio: so?
Enjah Mysterio: that means nothing to me
HeadBurro Antfarm: Stylae? What is that, Adam?
Adam Greybeard: bye
Enjah Mysterio: bye
I thought running off to smoke was an odd thing to do in the middle of presenting work to a gallery owner. Looking back I realize that we were having at least three conversations at the same time, with Lucy and her mini car, falling off the edge into the ocean, and that he probably did not know I was trying to focus on him and find out what sort of work he did. Oh well.