This week I walk amongst dry grasses, along the river bed. There is a new light coming. Blossom is emerging and there I see them. The mountains never fail you. They speak with soft tones. Colour comes. You cannot miss it.
I found this poem. It says ‘keep up‘ Can you do that?
I came home to paint to remind myself I was part of it.
The painting is for sale.
Could this work? I am known for getting lightbulb moments but this one hit me with…
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