While the story of the weight of smoke is a good one, shown on film here [link]
, this started as a doodle while contemplating my own love of briar pipes, some recent turns of fortune, and most of Rene Magritte's work, "Ceci n'est pas une pipe". After that, it all spiralled out of control. Though what came of this was mindless afterthoughtishness, much like my last one, it all makes sense to me somehow. What I mean to say is that I am at my very worst when I think I have a good idea. When I am at my best is when I have no idea whatsoever what I am doing, like the first time everytime. Like a child. So with this childishness in hand, and like last time, totally stream of consciousness connections, I have no idea what to say about this......and with a song......[link]
Somehow, the Pogues do seem to fit. Don't know why.