The other day in Starbucks I was looking at the Herbie Hancock "Possibilities" display, and wondered who that old git was in the grainy photo with Herbie. He looked like some British actor I should recognize, with his exceedingly fair hair and somewhat receding hairline and Roman nose and wool coat with scarf that looked well-worn but dashing at the same time.
Then I realized: it was Sting. He doesn't look bad at all. He just looks like some gracefully aging, slightly mad milkman's son, like a Northumbrian poet named Gordon who happens to be over 50 -- which really shouldn't be all that surprising. He was, as he told us, born in the 50s.
Still, it was.
Posted on December 29, 2005 to horticulture
Previously: Nothing at all to do with turkey or thanks...
Next Time: It's always the last place you look.
Main: cleaning out ferryboats
The title says it all. It's my ongoing one-woman show, with new works being put into rotation as they come up.
cleaning out ferryboats
all writing, all the time, just because
the sign of angellica
an aphra behn web site
reflections and illuminations
art, technology, spirit