Studebaker Skies

2024.11.29

Good morning that wonderful way.

Dreams and doing dreams.

Words and doing words.

How goes it?

Good here.

Soft pastel blue to pink over a violet horizon. The treetop contour line is a burnt sienna painter's knife scratch.

How's your sky? Describe it.

Give it a try.

What's it remind you of?

That game of clouds... "That one looks like a spaceship. That one an elephant. Ooh, look a Studebaker..."

Play that game for the whole sky.

A blue bowl cupped in the hand of a street magician placed over a prize.

We're the prize.

On either side are two bowls covering an empty table of Space.

The hand spins the bowls in a random pattern around each other on a galaxy table.

"Guess which one has Life under it..."

Wonder what the prize is for getting it right.

The squirrels are fat full of stored acorns and stumble atop the fence.

A bright beacon opportunity for Abe.

Wonder what he'd do if he caught one.

That's no squeak toy, friend.

No cotton stuffing, just fleshy mess. Let it go.

Hope the day is a good one for you.

Take care, make some metaphors, write your dreams down, let that mess go (yeah, that one), and have your better day.