New Words
Just yesterday a young boy, who I was laughing and talking with about the top-spin ‘word’ he had just created, paused and asked me, “Why does your breath smell like perfume,” and I answered: because I just took a menthol breath mint, and because most people cannot ‘see’ or smell the composition of the scene that is going on above my head, where my mind is sending out sparkles of light popping in and out of the painting’s wonderment, colored with my words of enjoyment of laughing and talking with you.
"Oh."
(That’s how it was with you and I, Sammy. Always how it was.)
"Oh."
(That’s how it was with you and I, Sammy. Always how it was.)
New Words: Annotated.
This accompanied painting took several days to complete. It enfolds that Ridge with its burning burning light that approaches me. I, loving the sky as much as I do, wanted to portray the double and treble manifold feelings I have for this distant sense of sight. And to hint at the deeper time-folds that await my mortality in that kind of light which none of us down-dark here have seen. This careful sky with its Hyperion Ridge I give to you, dear reader. Enjoy.