"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,/And what I assume you shall assume,/For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.//I loafe and invite my soul,/I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass."
Sunday, February 28, 2010
The ghost of Jackson Pollock stumbled in, drunk as a Long Islander, and mistook the apple jack glaze for white paint. You should see the ceiling. Sotheby's has already sent some feelers out...