|front cover by the author|
Longing for quiet and stability, Norman avoids personal contacts with the public. His art is driven by the compulsion and obsession of a man who prefers his own company. In spite of this self-imposed seclusion, Norman J. Olson is becoming an artistic underground legend.
walking down Freemont Street at 7 a.m.
on this cold February morning… the gray
floor looks deader than the corpse
of the moon… only me and
a Japanese tourist walk between
the pathetic blinking lights
of washed out casinos…
a beggar in a power wheelchair looks
like a bundle of rags with a rattling cup…
a crippled pigeon scrabbles
across the gray floor,
limping like all the
in the history of the universe…