Next year I'm diving head-first into a Grandma Moses painting. You'll probably be able to witness some of the damage; see the straggly-haired young woman in front of the red barn? Yeah, the one milking the cow with a look of pensive entropy taking over her face...let's hope her grip stays soft.
I'm all set for rural living. Slather me in maple syrup and roll me in a carpet, and then set the scene on fire while bagpipes play it off as a hoot- Screw toga parties. Those are for mouth-breathers and future business moguls alike. My place is with the patched-pants kids, ragamuffin heartthrobs, crafty little fuckers with will-o-the-wisp sideburns.
Bennington 2014. My only hope is for everyone to be okay if I walk around wearing leather suits and fur underwear, otherwise I may freeze and shatter into a million little Los Angeles-spoiled pieces.
Found these snaps of Bennington circa leather chokers and carefully placed rouge. I can dig it. I've already mastered the "gothic fear" look, as a boy with a bow & arrow in his car once told me.
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