"Feeling is first."
Old Man
Boston, Massachusetts
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original material by daily beard
(c)2007 all rights reserved
This
Daily Beard has been playing bass, making art and writing in the self-taught fashion for a lot longer than it takes most people to get there. For certifiable ages over a middle-age he has been hiding out in the dusty old cocoon-womb of a one room shack in the basement of a brownstone in Boston.
With all the vigor and vim of some (think moldy bread) barely dead great and-so-on grandson of some deposed Roman Emporer in a tomb, he's busied his world-weakened fingers, limbs and lips by estranging himself from his family of shit, walking to and from the Way Station of Life repeatedly with an empty can of gasoline, by making a thousand old-fashioned pots of coffee on top of the stove, obsessive dream journaling, typewriters and haiku, holding kissing contests where nobody would dare to even show. Due to rain, Daily Beard just kept saying "Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow."
And when Tomorrow never did make its way back from the Easter parade, Hopeless converted to the somewhat Buddhist Arrived and then This came home naked and in love with Today.
woolly!