Fractals Photos Poetry Prose Watercolor

Friday, April 28, 2006

Sap of a Wounded Pine

I want to pat myself on the back but it might be too soon. It's taken me longer than I thought possible to get this simple project together and I'm afraid that by dawn tomorrow, the lines will be scattered and the paintings will turn to black and white. Each time I learn something, I'm faced with another curve, another project, another brain stretch. It is said that keeps one young but it seems to me it makes my eyes bloodshot and my forehead wrinkled. Hmmm.

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