allieayers

the cutest princess

the cutest princess

"Warm Afternoon"
Pegge Hopper 

"Warm Afternoon"

Pegge Hopper 

vantdo:

Van Do
Seminar Poster
08/2014

vantdo:

Van Do

Seminar Poster

08/2014

van do

—peanuts demo

vantdo:

1~2~3~4

you know that roasted peanuts are my favorite snack

so if i see em on 34th you know im going back

and i always get too fucking drunk off just one beer

so we dont have to go out dude we can just drink right here

yeaaah right here

 

and im so glad that you came up here too

taking on a risky internship too

we dont even know how well we’ll do

we just hope we’ll be here next year too

yeaaah we hope

 

now i just need to convince her

that ny really is the place for her

she is a mid west girl i know oh

so maybe ill end up in new mexico

someone get me a mexi coke

 

im so glad that you came up here too

taking on a risky internship too

we dont even know how well we’ll do

we just hope we’ll be here next year too

we hope we’ll be here next year too

erin m. riley and an admirer.
this show was purrfect. 

erin m. riley and an admirer.

this show was purrfect. 

Me

—You Don't Have To Tell Me

vantdo:

Been working on a lot of things lately. Here’s a ruff demo of something I wrote today.

the most purrfect moment.
erin m. riley & cats forever.

the most purrfect moment.

erin m. riley & cats forever.

raymond mccarron

raymond mccarron

happy valentines day <3

happy valentines day <3

oil spills are so beautiful and unbeautiful at the same time.  

ochre plumes
 
submerged beneath your clear, rippling skin
lies tragedy, hemorrhaging from placed pipes, 
dilapidated, rusted and worn thin.
your sunken, cavernous depth silently gripes.
  
the spill spreads across your surface in blight,
stretching into long strands of stratus cloud.
your once shifting, reflective planes of light
now lay, veiled beneath a thick, ocher shroud.
 
but alas, Ocean, you remain naïve
to our thoughtless and destructive ways;
it is only now that we think to grieve—
only once we cannot return to prior days.
 
the pain we have made cannot be undone;

you silently sit, waiting, blaming none.

oil spills are so beautiful and unbeautiful at the same time. 
 

ochre plumes

 

submerged beneath your clear, rippling skin

lies tragedy, hemorrhaging from placed pipes, 

dilapidated, rusted and worn thin.

your sunken, cavernous depth silently gripes.

  

the spill spreads across your surface in blight,

stretching into long strands of stratus cloud.

your once shifting, reflective planes of light

now lay, veiled beneath a thick, ocher shroud.

 

but alas, Ocean, you remain naïve

to our thoughtless and destructive ways;

it is only now that we think to grieve—

only once we cannot return to prior days.

 

the pain we have made cannot be undone;

you silently sit, waiting, blaming none.