Rome: Open City

 frostcog

frostcog2

I shall, like a bloated Hemmingway, be liberating Frost for the next couple of months.  I plan to show some things, make some things, finish some things, premier some thing and also do this big Cog mural as an entrance.    Romulus and Remus sitting on a fence.  They’d get back to work if they had any sense…

Taxi BQE

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I was coming home in the taxi when I called you and you were already home and getting ready for bed and so I hung up and asked the cab driver where he was from originally and he said, “Egypt” and so we spoke of pyramids, and the Old Testament, and Islam, and Israel and Palestine and terrorism and when we’d exhausted all that we spoke of dogs.  He said his pit bull was having a bad allergic reaction to something in the Autumn air, or ground.  His skin was all inflamed and the dog took to licking its paws to try and stop the itch.  The dog’s paws were now a bloody mess and he’d scratched his belly raw in great spasms of back leg sharp claw digging.  They had to put the  dog’s head in a huge plastic cone.

“Space Dog,”  I said

“Yes, like a space dog, exactly.”

taxi2

taxi3taxipaw

It was nice to agree on something and we whisked through the Brooklyn night home to where I pet the dogs and checked their paws just to be on the safe side.

 

Last of a Dying Breed

Vito and friends eat up Williamsburg and environs. Music is a couple of guys playing banjo and fidel from across the tracks at the Metropolitan stop on the L and G. It really created a great vibe. Folks were dancing with eachother from platform to platform. NY is nice in the fall sometimes.