Inside the steel and concrete and beneath a layer of earth, watching from windows and portholes. Between mesh screens, webs of black wire, I can see the sky. From here it's a beautiful velvet. Impossibly soft, enticing.
A sky on fire with reds and oranges, burning with intensity and welcoming the day. The clouds seem to vanish before it, fade into nothing. They were never there, as far as I can tell. They were a bad dream.
Walking outside, lighting a cigarette (pale against the dawn)...long haul. Lightheaded, cinders in my throat, grimacing against the brisk wind...
Sensations of walking outside the submarine I call a studio. The only real payoff to a long night of working is the morning...so I take it for all it's worth.
Well. Guess that's a brief walk in my shoes...more later.
A sky on fire with reds and oranges, burning with intensity and welcoming the day. The clouds seem to vanish before it, fade into nothing. They were never there, as far as I can tell. They were a bad dream.
Walking outside, lighting a cigarette (pale against the dawn)...long haul. Lightheaded, cinders in my throat, grimacing against the brisk wind...
Sensations of walking outside the submarine I call a studio. The only real payoff to a long night of working is the morning...so I take it for all it's worth.
Well. Guess that's a brief walk in my shoes...more later.