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Estelle

I was painting a still life this morning

Of a throat lozenge sitting on a copy

Of Tropic of Cancer

The only thing weird about it

Is that a year ago,

I never thought I'd paint anything again

I decided I wasn't ever gonna paint again

It didn't bother me too much

Warhol's dead,

David Hockney's still alive

I don't need to paint



I painted over ten thousand paintings

Sad ones, funny ones, dark ones, and light ones

I've done haystacks

And rich old ladies by their pools

Wearing nothing but a scarf

I've painted everything there was to paint

Now it was time to sit back

Give interviews

Hang out at club med

Get on the internet

Take stock of what I've done



You know, the best friend I ever had was a dog

It sounds like a cliche unless it's happened to you

Some days that dog was the only reason I even got out of bed

That dog went everywhere with me

And then I heard the crack addicts

Were stealin' dogs and selling them for animal research

It sounded like an urban myth to me

Like the mouse in the Coke bottle

But I started leavin' her at home after that

You know, Paula was my wife for a while

She ran off to Paris with the great grandson of Van Gogh

A cartoonist who did fashion graphics for Le Monde

When Paula left she took my dog

I never saw her again

Except in the court during the custody battle

She won and got to keep the dog

And I didn't speak to anyone for months



You know sometimes it feels

Like there's so much that you need

Sometimes the world is upside down

Sometimes it feels

Like the only thing you need

Is holdin' someone's hand as you walk through town



I started hanging around with Dino-aca

Estelle /

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