Clandestine meetings in playgrounds framed by yellow tape. The searchlight of a half-full moon somewhere in the distance. A cloud with a dim yellow core creeps across the stars. It does so perfectly, and with no mistakes. Some evenings are a half hour of preparation, just for a minute of haphazardly inspired painting. Sometimes, when everything except the skies are full, that is enough.
10:53 p.m. - 2020-05-21
Recent entries:
Thanking the Pandemonium - 2020-11-26
Simplicity of Sometimes - 2020-11-25
Bubblebeams - 2020-11-18
Red Blue Green Purple - 2020-11-11
Too Young to Descend - 2020-11-11
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