Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously

                 He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously

                 And when bringing her name up,

                 He speaks of her farewell kiss to me.

                 He’s sure got a lot of gall

                 To be so useless and all,

                 Muttering small talk at the wall,

                 While I’m in the hall.

                 How can I explain?  It’s so hard to get on.

                 And these visions of Johanna, the kept me up

                 Past the dawn…

 

                 - Bob Dylan

(home)

(a thousand words)

(my inner dylan)

(spring:  a narrative)

Photo by Nicholas Dahmann

(about me)

NOTE:  I am not yet finished with the site.  I still need to post pictures, writings, and pretty much everything of any interest on the site.  This preview will give the viewer a glimpse as to what my site will look like and the nature of the information to be posted.  Thanks and be patient for more things to come.