I love Basquiat. Gorgeous, creative, troubled, drug-addicted. A model of what not to do. But oh so brilliant. Reminds me of my birth mother.
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Sometimes intelligible ramblings from a former teacher, publisher, aerospace worker, barmaid, and waitress
3 comments:
The clean-slate-syndrome.
Love the poignant insight in your second comment.
It somewhat surprises me how much my biological mother seems to figure in my thoughts these days. Maybe she's thinking of me too?
Only retired people love Monday mornings. Bah humbug.
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