love and ruin among the jacarandas

Just two in a trail of random sketches littered among the fading Jacarandas (Jacarandai?) on Hayworth. Handsome boy. Lovely girl. The end of an affair? Or the early, heady come-what-may throws of disregard? We should all be so lucky to find the handmade articles of someone else's faith, strewn about us like so many leaves. Inviting us to engage.

But, the experience of being me suggests that some dude with a uni-ball and a penchant for watching, well, his man-bag simply popped a rivet on his way to meet this week's muse at El Compadre. And creative commons just took care of his afternoon's worth of loadstone, fashioned over sumatra boengie, at the coffee bean on Sunset.

Detail of same. Winking or crying.

A bit of nonsense on Sunset, heading to Coach and Horses with a guy named Mohammed, S. Someone scratched "9/11 ha ha ha" with an lapping tongue, along various surfaces (telephone boxes, doorways, street signs) along the way. Random. Disturbing. Not sure what to make of it, still. Kids. Youth. Yes. Youth: the indiscrete lack of suppuration that defines the ignorant. And the base.