# 261:
The time an artist spends on being an artist
is time finally free from the tyranny of the thoughts of others.
The End
There was a blinding surge of light.
I didn’t even have time to pray.
~ Text & artwork by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Take These Roads, Please!
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And glad that I could travel both
And be two travelers
Because I’m schizophrenic.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And glad that I could travel both
And be two travelers
Because I’m schizophrenic.
~ Russ Allison Loar
Apologies to Robert Frost
© All Rights Reserved
It's Been A Long Struggle
Supreme Court Rules In Favor Of Same-Sex Marriage Nationwide
~ June 26, 2015
~ Click here for the story on the L.A. Times website ~ by Russ Allison Loar ~ 8-5-1996
© All Rights Reserved
Meeting Slated
The Inland Valley chapter of the Society For Clear Thinking will hold an all-day workshop on “How To Make Life Simple” from 10:20 a.m. to 5:47 p.m. Saturday, March 2, at an undisclosed location.
New members are required to attend an orientation session at 7:48 a.m., in the Thoreau Room of the Simple Gifts Meeting Hall at the Southern California College of Agronomy and Moral Certainty.
After the orientation, exit on Walden Avenue South, past Civil Disobedience Drive, then turn west on Emerson Road and make a U-turn at the third intersection past the green/black student dormitories (If you see the black/green student dormitories you’ve gone too far!), bearing to the right onto Harpers Ferry Way to Parking Lot 81, Section 26 (southeastern quadrant), next to the campus greenhouse.
Walk northeast on Campus Loop toward the Transcendental Arts Building, past the Hell No We Won’t Go food court, turning right at the Gandhi memorial bird bath. Walk straight ahead until you see the second unmarked bus stop and wait for bus No. 331, or 28-A if after 9:15 a.m., or any bus between H-9Q and 12 if after 9:33 a.m.
Exit the bus at Tolstoy Street and walk north on Tolstoy, past the King Cotton Laundromat (on the left) to the Thrifty Chick fried chicken restaurant (on the fourth, north-south corner of the traffic hexagon). Enter Thrifty Chick and say: “Sir Larry has come to collect the poll tax,” if the man at the counter is wearing a hat or an eye patch, or “The goslings weep for their mother” if there is another man without a hat and/or an eye patch, or a woman (mature, no eye patch), behind the counter.
You will be led to the rear of the shop and put into the cargo area of the Thrifty Chick delivery van whose driver will blindfold you and take you to my house where I will then drive you to the meeting. The workshop fee is $20 (stamps).
~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
The Newer Colossus
Don’t give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
I extinguish my lamp beside the golden door.
Go away.
We’re full.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
The Fly
H ere,
In this beautiful world,
A fly is trapped in my house.
Trapped.
It's buzzing madly against the window glass,
Certain there must be an opening,
Beckoned by the light of the outside world,
The outside world,
Just a fraction of an inch away,
An impenetrable fraction of an inch.
Here,
In this beautiful world,
Where all things are possible,
This Garden of Eden where life explodes,
Where love and hate contend,
Where joy, real joy is actually possible,
A fly is trapped in my window.
I get a clear plastic cup
Reserved for such rescues
And capture the exhausted creature,
Gently sliding a square of cardboard beneath
To prevent escape.
Here,
In this dangerous world,
Where evil survives and babies die,
A fly was trapped in my house,
And I opened the door
And I let it go.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Artwork by Chris Ezelle aka Boogey Man
© All Rights Reserved
Kids Need Discipline!
"The school board Tuesday night unanimously approved
the death penalty for dress code violations."
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by Paul and Lora Guajardos
© All Rights Reserved
Before I Barely Knew Anything
Before I barely knew anything
I awakened each summer morning
To the cawing of crows
And thought,
How very tall these trees
In which they gather to ruffle their feathers
In the morning breeze,
How tall these trees
And how much these crows must see.
I climbed an orange tree,
So frightened by the height,
So amazed at the sight of neighboring houses
And city streets
And thought about what the crows must see
From the tops of the sycamore trees
And from higher still
As they rise into the sky,
Knowing I would never know
What they know,
Before I barely knew anything.
~ Poem and photograph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
One Small Candle
When we decide to love,
To fall in love,
We luxuriate in our love,
Our precise, exquisite love,
Denied to so many.
We light one small candle
In a dark room,
Believing the whole wide world
Is ablaze.
~ Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by Christopher Andrew Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Living In A Tree
I f the world were filled with people like me,
I’d likely be living up in a tree.
~ Words, photograph and rat by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
# 100:
So many writers with nothing to say,
who nevertheless say it very well.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
who nevertheless say it very well.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Heaven
You must find heaven right where you are.
~ Text & artwork by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Ways We Lie
“How are you?”
“Fine, thanks.”
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by John Kounadeas
© All Rights Reserved
Tombstones
When I was eight I dreamed I was standing outside my school on the grass with my classmates, waiting for my mother to pick me up. The boys and girls around me began to sink silently into the ground. Where each had stood, a tombstone rose. I was alone, surrounded by tombstones.
Now that I am older, the tombstones are real.
© All Rights Reserved
# 245:
Time is born of a singularity,
tied to the temporal “before and after.”
The cosmological constant is the eternal “now.”
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
tied to the temporal “before and after.”
The cosmological constant is the eternal “now.”
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Things
O nce I was a magician like you and owned many things.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by Stephen Hender
© All Rights Reserved
# 30:
If you wish to bring joy and love to others,
you must be full of joy and love.
You cannot give what you do not possess.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
you must be full of joy and love.
You cannot give what you do not possess.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
No Regrets
The butterfly does not miss being a caterpillar.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photograph by Kathy Hardy
© All Rights Reserved
Of This World
We are not in this world. We are of this world.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
Artwork by Julie A. King ~ website?
© All Rights Reserved
# 82:
Consider how your vision of the world
is created by your emotions.
Then, set your emotions aside
and take another look.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
is created by your emotions.
Then, set your emotions aside
and take another look.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Peter Pantheism
I am a Peter Pantheist.
I have a childlike belief that everything is a component of God.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
# 93:
People want the security of knowing
and so spend their lives
cementing their beliefs into place,
constructing the impenetrable wall of self.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
and so spend their lives
cementing their beliefs into place,
constructing the impenetrable wall of self.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Pretense
What you pretend to know,
closes your eyes to the truth.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Painting "Futile Regret" by Roberto Gonzalez Fernandez
© All Rights Reserved
# 239:
I cannot prove angels exist.
It would hurt their feelings if I tried.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
It would hurt their feelings if I tried.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Afterlife
The first tribunal was with the chickens.“According to our records,” the chief justice rooster announced in a loud, screeching voice, assuring he would be heard all the way back to the very last row of the cavernous courtroom, packed with clucking hens and muttering roosters of all kinds and colors.
“According to our records, during your lifetime, you have eaten," he paused with grave solemnity, "the equivalent of 8,693 chickens,” he declared, pointing his beak menacingly at me, his wattles inflated with indignation.
I shivered at the totality of it all.
“The accused shall stand before this court.”
I stood.
“Do you wish to make a statement before sentence is passed?”
“Yes,” I barely answered in tremulous voice.
“Proceed.”
Summoning up my courage, knowing there was little I could say that would alter my fate, I cleared my throat, took a deep breath, and at the top of my voice cried out:
“Cock-A-Doodle-Doo!”
~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
I've Been Busy!
Then, in the middle of the night, the ghost of Robert Frost suddenly appeared on a luggage carousel, enshrouded in a glowing blue-white mist. He spoke to us:
"Whose woods these are I think I know, his house is in the village though," pointing toward the northeast quadrant of the airport. At first I had no idea what this meant, but he kept repeating the phrase in a louder and louder voice: "His house is in the village though," until at last, almost shouting he said:
"HIS HOUSE IS IN THE VILLAGE YOU DUMMY!"
This final outburst awakened Brian and between the two of us we realized Frost was directing us to a part of the airport that would facilitate our escape.
By early morning we'd made our way northeast where we finally encountered the ticket counter. We were a bit embarrassed that we hadn't thought of this before, but wrote it off to battle fatigue. Brian tried to charge our tickets on his NBC Visa card, but for some reason his account had been closed, and so I sprung for the airfare. At least they gave me an Auto Club discount.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
# 37:
A saint is seldom treated fairly.
It’s part of the job description.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
It’s part of the job description.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Blackjack
Poor old Blackjack,
Battered with one eye swollen shut,
He comes to my back door and cries for food
But he hurts too much to eat.
He cries to bring me out,
To hear the sympathetic sound of my voice,
To feel the rush of warm air from the open door
Against the stiff chill of early morning.
He comes close to the open door
But will not go in.
Some distant memory of being a kitten,
A house cat,
Pulls him to this place of food,
This place of sanctuary from the larger world,
The more dangerous world
He is now too wild to escape.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by Russ Allison Loar
A Lie
I was playing with a baseball I’d found in my front yard when two older boys walked up to me.
One of them said, “That’s my baseball. I hit it over here all the way from the park.”
The park was about three miles away, but I was seven years old and I believed him. I gave him the baseball. The two boys walked away laughing.
Lying in bed that night, thinking over the events of the day, I realized those boys were laughing because they had told me a lie and I believed them. They were laughing at me.
I decided I wouldn't be so stupid next time. Despite my decision, so many years later, I’m still surprised how skillfully people can lie.
~ By Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
# 28:
To be in heaven
and not know you are in heaven
is one of life’s great tragedies.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
and not know you are in heaven
is one of life’s great tragedies.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
# 179:
Criticism may be necessary,
but it’s more profound to construct
than criticize.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
but it’s more profound to construct
than criticize.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Alternate Endings
On center stage is a large, green chalkboard mounted on a wooden swivel frame. Standing stage right is geeky Lab Coat Man wearing a white lab coat with many pens in his pocket protector. He’s wearing oversized black oval glasses and holding a long wooden pointer. On stage left, next to the chalkboard, is a six-foot Toucan wearing a large striped tie. He has a giant yellow beak he uses rhythmically when he dances. A door is visible in the background.
The Italian song, "Zooma, Zooma"
{Music opens in new tab. Click original tab to return to text while music plays.}
starts up with a vamp, waiting for Lab Coat Man to begin his song. He begins to sing, pointing to the lyrics on the blackboard as he sings them in an Italian accent while Toucan dances gaily in place.
LAB COAT MAN: ♫ Take a toucan to a tie shop, buy a tie for toucan too. (Music vamps – Toucan dances) Take a toucan to a tie shop and he wear a tie like you. ♫
More vamping and Toucan dancing while the sound of loud knocking becomes apparent, as if from an adjacent wall or ceiling. It’s Angry Neighbor shouting muffled complaints that cannot be heard clearly.
LAB COAT MAN: ♫ Take a toucan to a pie shop, buy some pie for toucan too. (Music vamps, Toucan dances) Take a toucan to a pie shop and he eat some pie like you. ♫
More vamping and Toucan dancing while the sound of knocking grows louder and Angry Neighbor’s voice becomes more furious.
Lab Coat Man flips the blackboard over where the words of the chorus are written in large letters for the audience to sing along.
LAB COAT MAN: Everybody sing! ♫ Ay, yi, yi, toucan like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, toucan like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, toucan like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi — ♫
Suddenly, Angry Neighbor bursts through the door and points a gun at Toucan while the music abruptly slows down and stops with the sound of a needle scratching across the surface of a record.
ANGRY NEIGHBOR: I told you! No pets!
Angry Neighbor shoots Toucan with a gun that ejects a red flag upon which the word “Bang!” is written. Toucan grabs his chest, swoons and attempts to hold on to the blackboard, then collapses on the floor.
Lab Coat Man pulls out a gun from his pants pocket and shoots Angry Neighbor. His gun also ejects a red flag with the word “Bang!” written on it. Angry Neighbor grabs his chest as Toucan did and collapses behind Toucan.
The song, “You’ll Never Walk Alone” begins to play while Lab Coat Man bends over the dying Toucan.
LAB COAT MAN: (After mournful consideration of Toucan, holding his wing, looking into his eyes) You’re the last toucan Angry Neighbor will ever shoot—on this planet anyway!
TOUCAN: (Looking lovingly at Lab Coat man with raised head, then as he lowers his head, with his dying breath) Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!
LAB COAT MAN: (Standing up and turning toward the audience) Now, the alternate ending!
Lab Coat Man and Toucan resume their places while Angry Neighbor leaves the stage. The scene repeats. "Zooma, Zooma" begins to play.
LAB COAT MAN: ♫ Take a toucan to a tie shop, buy a tie for toucan too. (Music vamps, Toucan dances) Take a toucan to a tie shop and he wear a tie like you. ♫
More vamping and Toucan dancing while the sound of loud knocking becomes apparent, as if from an adjacent wall or ceiling. It’s Angry Neighbor shouting muffled complaints that cannot be heard clearly.
LAB COAT MAN: ♫ Take a toucan to a pie shop, buy some pie for toucan too. (Music vamps, Toucan dances) Take a toucan to a pie shop and he eat some pie like you. ♫
More vamping and Toucan dancing while the sound of knocking grows louder and Angry Neighbor’s voice becomes more furious.
Lab Coat Man flips the blackboard over where the words of the chorus are written in large letters for the audience to sing along.
LAB COAT MAN: Everybody sing! ♫ Ay, yi, yi, toucan like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, toucan like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, toucan like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi — ♫
Suddenly, Angry Neighbor bursts through the door and the music abruptly slows down and stops with the sound of a needle scratching across the surface of a record.
ANGRY NEIGHBOR: You’re having a party and I wasn’t invited?
LAB COAT MAN: Why of course you’re invited. The party hasn’t started yet. We were just rehearsing!
There’s a loud knocking at the door. Lab Coat Man opens the door and Pizza Delivery Boy enters.
PIZZA DELIVERY BOY: One extra-large banana pizza to go!
Lab Coat Man, Toucan and Angry Neighbor all look at one another for a moment, then burst out laughing while the “Zooma, Zooma” vamp begins again. They all sing the chorus together.
LAB COAT MAN: Come on everybody! Sing along!
All begin to sing, while singing offstage actors costumed as slices of pizza wearing ties dance onto the stage, tossing slices of pizza to the audience.
EVERYONE SINGS AND CLAPS: ♫ Ay, yi, yi, I like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, Toucan like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, I like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, Toucan like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, I like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, Toucan like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, I like a pizza pie. Ay, yi, yi, Toucan like a pizza pie. ♫
Singing continues until audience enthusiasm begins to wane as actors leave the stage. Then the music is abruptly slowed and stopped as before with the sound of a needle scratching across the surface of a record. Angry Neighbor pulls out a machine gun.
ANGRY NEIGHBOR: Wait a minute! I told you no pets!
Angry Neighbor shoots Lab Coat Man and Toucan in a barrage of fire. Their bodies shake as they are riddled with bullets, then crumple to the ground. Angry Neighbor surveys the carnage, then blows smoke from the barrel of his machine gun, grabs a piece of pizza and exits through the door.
Curtain
~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Play It!
At some point, you’ve got to stop tuning your guitar and play the damn thing.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo of Russ in 1971
© All Rights Reserved
The Meek
The meek may indeed inherit the Earth,
but they will not explore it.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by Escobar Studios
© All Rights Reserved
# 111:
I am skeptical of any advice
that contains the words: “You must . . .”
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
that contains the words: “You must . . .”
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
# 164:
There is no greater gift
than the gift of a new day,
along with the health, sanity
and freedom to make use of it.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
than the gift of a new day,
along with the health, sanity
and freedom to make use of it.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Lights
Without love,
Some kind,
Any kind of crazy love,
The lights are out
All over town.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photograph by Julie A. King
© All Rights Reserved
This World
For every bird that dies,
There’s another bird that flies.
~ Poem & photograph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Click on photo to enlarge
# 67:
If you want help from the angels,
you must listen very carefully,
for they speak softer than sound.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
you must listen very carefully,
for they speak softer than sound.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Poetry Class
“Nothing beats an 18-year-old pair of hips.”
It’s from a poem. Her poem. That blond-haired girl in my college creative writing class, reading her poem out loud, a poem about her love of sex, of having sex, preferably with lean 18-year-old boys at the zenith of their sexual energies.
Within a few days of her recitation I noticed she began coming to class with the professor, a man not quite twice her age who evidently was quite willing to submit his hips to her critical assessment.
Yes, they had definitely paired off, but unfortunately, the academic quarter came to an end before she had a chance to construct a poem about this new sexual experience.
But why should I let that fact limit my own imagination?
You Are Not My Daddy
Yes, you are not my daddy.
Yes, you are not my boyfriend.
Yes,
Yes,
Yes.
Oh my God,
Yes!
~ © Blond-haired College Girl
There’s nothing like a college education to expand one’s imagination.
© All Rights Reserved
# 23:
Too much work strips everyday life
of love and serendipitous happenstance,
oh yeah!
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
of love and serendipitous happenstance,
oh yeah!
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Poetry
I Remove The Stone
In these later years I sometimes despair
When thought returns to unburdened times,
When moist-eyed remembrance,
Sorted from care,
Makes longing for such pleasant fiction
A stone in the heart.
Shamed by my childish discontent,
My sophisticated selfishness,
I hear my breathing,
I see this world,
I remove the stone.
~~~
I n poetry, the writing is the thing that comes last.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Birdsong
Even the finest words fall away in early morning birdsong.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Artwork by Alexis Trice
© All Rights Reserved
My Revelation
For me, this existence, "This," is eternity.
The kingdom of heaven, and hell, and everything else in-between is at hand. Right here. Right now.
Whatever is past and whatever may come, This moment is all about how far along I am as an eternal soul, an eternal being, an eternal something or another, names and labels being limited as they are.
This is my revelation.
So many of us believe heaven is somewhere else, a reward for a life well-spent, our ethereal home where there will be no more strife and struggle.
But what if we died and awoke in heaven and it was a place just like Earth, where we inhabited physical bodies and had to put our spirituality to the test in a physical world of human interaction and social evolution? We might very well doubt we had entered the kingdom of God.
For me, entering the kingdom of God is about awakening, seeing what has always been here. And for me, hell is also here. Wherever there is the possibility of heaven, there is the possibility of hell. It has something to do with free will.
This is my revelation.
I do not know where I will be after my body dies. Perhaps “I” and “where” will no longer apply. Nevertheless, today, I am in heaven. I cannot imagine a more heavenly miracle than the persistence of life, hope and love on this planet, here among the uninhabitable planets of our solar system. I cannot imagine a more heavenly miracle than the birth of a child.
Here in heaven, you put a small seed into the ground and it comes back flowers.
~ By Russ Allison Loar
~ Photograph by Maxine (aka: maxxximpact)
© All Rights Reserved
On Moonlit Freeway
On moonlit freeway
I see the weariness in your eyes,
A few stray strands of hair
Around your face
Illuminated against the black
Inside your car.
It is late.
We who work overtime are driving home
In silent, anonymous autonomy.
Though I’ve seen you a thousand times before
In full fluorescent sun,
Numbed by office decor and decorum,
Tonight in my rearview mirror
I see the phosphorescence of your truer self,
Your innocence.
It is the innocence of the oppressed
Who, after overtime is through,
Have nothing disingenuous left.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
# 78:
Most artists are starving,
if not for money,
if not for love,
if not for transcendence,
then at least for attention.
It’s hunger that propels them.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
if not for money,
if not for love,
if not for transcendence,
then at least for attention.
It’s hunger that propels them.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Imagine Your Life
If you are not living the life you imagined,
imagine the life you are living.
~ Text & artwork by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
# 138:
Now that we have infinite choices of information to ingest in this technological age, there are few, if any, predictable paths to self-identity, to self-realization. Now, each of us can carve out a distinctly original, distinctly personal path to being and becoming. Now that we have these tools, we should be increasingly skeptical of those who would prescribe the course of our lives.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
I Knew A Young Man
I knew a young man
Who drank warm water
Right from the faucet,
From his cupped hand.
Everything he did,
An act of defiance,
An act of strength,
His way through the world.
They sent him to the war
And he didn’t last a week.
~ Poem and photograph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
The Universe
The universe is not the product of an intelligent being.
The universe is an intelligent being.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by the NASA Spitzer Space Telescope
© All Rights Reserved
# 75:
You may call it fiction,
but if you drop a large novel
on your foot,
your toe will hurt.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
but if you drop a large novel
on your foot,
your toe will hurt.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
One Cup Of Coffee
S o many of us are struggling,
Tormented by work and money,
Dysfunctional families,
Disease and decadence,
Political injustice,
Weather,
Inertia.
Yet each morning,
After only one cup of coffee,
I am glad to be alive
One more day.
~ Russ Allison Loar
~ Artwork by Christian René aka runnerfrog
© All Rights Reserved
Baboon-ed!
M ethinks
These be baboon-ed days.
For want of suck this curv-ed fruit I entreat.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo from Mongabay.com
© All Rights Reserved
The Boundaries Of Heaven
We draw the boundaries of heaven
Around the spaces of ourselves,
Marked off by threat
And bluster,
As if heaven were a place
Unwelcome.
~ text and photo by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
At The Circus
W hat was I thinking?
Too eager to accept a dare? Afraid to back down?
How absurd it all seems now, about to step out on this wire so incredibly high above the crowd.
~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Artwork by Jolantasketch
© All Rights Reserved
# 200:
Time is fleeting
and there is so much to study and learn.
I am sorely tempted to let the laundry go.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
and there is so much to study and learn.
I am sorely tempted to let the laundry go.
~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)