I'm standing at the remainder table reading the picture captions in a book on children's bedrooms. Elvis is moaning I can't help falling in love with you on the store's sound system. Many people pass behind me down the store's main aisle, deeper into its warm light, shaking off the sleet that's falling, outside, in early darkness. They are all humming, singing -- as it's called, what a strange expression -- under the breath.
We are all humming like a powerline.
We are blue glass and the sadness of love moves through us.
Why were you reading a book on children's bedrooms?
Why were you reading a book on children's bedrooms?
Ooo, guess I should read my comments more often. They're not usually working, is all. Nope, I'm not turning my studio into a nursery, and if I do, Pat, at least, won't hear about it on the blog....
I was reading about children's bedrooms because I'm thinking about painting a mural in my studio -- a choice which decorators seem to think unsuitable for adults.