Change, the constant.
The sea is the colour of mud. The clouds near the horizon are an aqua blue. The mind refuses to, maybe cannot, make sense of it all. A bolt of lightning streaks across the sky. The clouds move towards the setting sun across the sea. The rumble of thunder is not far behind, a reminderContinue reading “Awe”
Paint. Even as the world burns, paint.
The scene is becoming of a modern age saint and yet, I know he is not one. He chooses to be a man who watches.