You See That Ice Cream?

Friends, by Kristine Lee

I feel like that ice cream. The ball on the ground, melting. It's 95 degrees in the shade and I'm stuck alone at my mom's house, ripping off wall paneling, patching & painting and getting it ready to sell, living mostly off of the apocalypse diet (whatever cans and boxes of food I can scrounge up) and now I am out of chocolate cookies. As Pink Floyd said, this will not do. So, while I'm literally waiting for paint to dry, I thought I'd catch up on posting cool art from last year.