PRISMS AND PILGRIMS

... is a phrase which I came across recently reading an O. Henry anthology. It is apparently something one might have said in the early 1900s to summon good luck.

Images: Don't remember; amazing record from ponytone.com; a former classmate of mine from SAIC, Aylor Brown, killing it in a cape (I think I saved that from her livejournal back in the day-- hahaha); oh HELL yes; sweet paint job, dude; wish I remembered the name of this artist; stills from Fantastic Planet (thanks Thomas).

Today is Thanksgiving and I am giving thanks that my life is, while not fully as awesome as possible (working on it though), pretty amazing. I am thinking of getting a tattoo on the palm of my hand of a drawing from Thomas's journals of a star-eyed alien girl. I wonder if he would have thought that was a good idea. Time to consult the Ouija! Also: I had a dream last night that I was defending my haircut to someone. My mother just sent me a text reporting that I had been talking in my sleep this morning and had said very loudly: "Well, I think it's chic, so fuck off." You tell 'em, dream girl.

Also, I just found this image from when Thomas and I were living together a couple years back. He was drawing on my leg, and I caught on at the last minute that he was going to write "Give a dog a bone," which I found unappealing. I took over the project at the critical moment and changed the message to "Give a do-good day!" Well played.