It’s easier to remain silent for someone
whose words only ever got twisted.
(spoke in other forms though)
Running from what?
Nothing. And everything.
Until they fell off the edge - or flew-
and plunged into an epiphany where words can’t
even translate,
can’t touch you.
“Don’t you come looking for me”
on the wind.
Pasted in my art journal. I had to "stretch" the 98 lb canson xl watercolor paper first. I'm new to this, but finally got it right. started to "buckle" a bit while painting then flattened back out when dry, but kept it taped down till dry. lots to lea
We wrapped up our trip with South of the Border, the schlockiest, most-borderline-offensive Mexican-themed South Carolina rest stop of all time. Then we hit Raleigh's art museum, and went home. The last few sketches of my sketchbook were me flipping through my photos and drawing a few favorite things I hadn't gotten to drawing yet. Thanks for traveling with me!
