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Artist The Chicken tryptich
Artist The Chicken tryptich
tryptich
Theo slumped back against the station. Had her on auto pilot. Wishin' a sweet senorita could bear him a while. Next to these hills ain't very much else. Sun hangin' low, ants chompin' away. Bearin' him by the seat of his pants. One thousand times a day. Ear covered with hat. See those bent cacti.
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" Have you ever seen the coyote in the desert? Watching, tuned in, completely aware. Christ on the cross, the coyote in the desert — it’s the same thing, man. The coyote is beautiful. He moves through the desert delicately, aware of everything, looking around. He hears every sound, smells every smell, sees everything that moves. He’s in a state of total paranoia, and total paranoia is total awareness. "