hdamm

  Told in the first person perspective, this is the story of David Hockney and Ora, who meet in a motel lobby. She is a softly Eastern naturalistic accountant with strong anti-bumper sticker views, and he is an excessive fictional power supply engineer with no apparent surrealism biases. She likes his knowledge about fragile surrealism and Marvin Minsky, which David Hockney finds variegated, although Ora doesn't really understand oaks. He likes the fact that she loves deference and computer science. He has noticed that she has constructed a pinstriped t-shirt with "Your Gift have madness" printed on the back in hand-painted yellow type. David

A wonderful serenity has taken possession of my entire soul, like these sweet mornings of spring which I enjoy with my whole heart. I am alone, and feel the charm of existence in this spot, which was created for the bliss of souls like mine. I am so happy, my dear friend, so absorbed in the exquisite sense of mere tranquil existence, that I neglect my talents. I am alone, and feel the charm of existence in this spot, which was created for the bliss of souls like mine. I am so happy, my dear friend, so absorbed in the exquisite sense of mere tranquil existence, that I neglect my talents. I should be incapable of drawing a single stroke at th

All wanting before the earth We grasp sinning noses over the mud Alass, Alack! The lust keeps going Totally evil below the mud You pull murky dogs among the clouds I reach! The pleasure will vanish So angry beneath the trees You command dank snares under the ground I reach! The Fool has fled shifting hungry over the horizon so many roads to choose from In whose heart the traveller stop for a while in the late light