when words fail me, which is often, I paint. When words work for me and are available on time, I am surprised.
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when words fail me, which is often, I paint. When words work for me and are available on time, I am surprised.
4 comments:
Lovely picture -- not to mention, the season.
Simply gorgeous. Enjoy.
The leaves
never do it
for me - I
grew up under eleven acres
of branches
; spent three
solid months
raking raking.
Is beautiful work?
And could get maybe four
jumps into
the end of the pile
before
it
burned up. Blew
away to nothing but
grey on the grey
gravel.
It must be nice down there in mid-Virginny.
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