The New Land

The beautiful lady and I have taken a grand nest in the Silverlake hillside.

It’s a spanish hut with white walls and wood floors. Birds live here.

The walks are on a slope and the sun can touch the ground in some places. The trees do in most others.

I’ve been shuffling between hard and soft images a lot lately.

Opening the fridge, I can find an equal share of celluloid and fresh greens.

This hill is a new canvas. Every walk is a new picture…painting…thought…expression.

Building shoe racks and buying time.

Strange dreams are comfortable, but only when lucid.

I’ll be on the resting drive.

*

Would you like to see?