River of unbroken rigidity.
Resonate the overcast softness;
mitigate my distress.
Plains in the middle
I simply stopped;
to paint my words.
Always armed with supplies, I enjoy simply driving out on the back roads and finding what I find. Sometimes, like here, I simply am struck by the simplicity perfectly explaining my thought process.
This is in the middle of nowhere. I cannot remember what state, or location. I do remember firing up my little personal stove, making a cup of coffee, and a cup of soup. I put on my finger-less gloves and settled in the absorption of the moment.
A vast plain with one lone tree in the distance, seemed perfectly content, so I asked it why and how.
paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower