A little while ago I went on a spirit journey.
I was never much of a photographer. Somehow twisted garbage becomes a playground.
I always preferred the number 3 to the number 5. Holy trinities and storytelling and Jack White aside, five does do something to me.
(But what is so special about 7?)
Something there is that doesn't slug.
Leaves of grass don't do much for me anymore. Open fields seem alien.City boy.
City boy. I have to confess, I think Walden is stupid.
I remember reading The Wonderful Wizard of Oz in elementary school.
Henry Gale, from Minnesota.
City boy.
I feel like this sometimes.
Part of me wants L. Frank Baum's masterpiece to be an allegory. Part of me really enjoys Party in the U.S.A. by Miley Cyrus. Part of me really hates Broccoli.City boy.
You can't really tell for the fog and the mist and the camera on my phone, but there is a city on the other side of the lake.And it is beautiful.
