i am not a “painter.” that is, my expressive alignment is not solely to the digms of bristle and pigment; but i’ll say that it really doesn’t matter what i use to wrangle the expressive abstracts. i'll grab all-whots to pinch that reality to shares-devoured. i am sure that somewhere in the celestial, moon and gas are finding new origins at every act of passion that grasps the tangent.
what is in that peripheral, that unfamiliar? you best look, because you’ll be amazed.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment