A fuzzy fragment of a pure white cloud peaks above the dismal roofline of a new residential complex. I see you… Don’t look so glum chum…

To the distant right, are whole clouds of the same pure white but with fibrous patches of soft grays. These clouds hang like fat fish idling; below them, beige, middling-height mountains — onto which the clouds are casting rich, milky purple blotches. The upper all else — a perplexing but slightly corny azure; like an outworn element of science fiction.

The specifically gathered, floating, but ultimately unthreatening water droplets against the self sufficient rocks promotes an air of indeterminacy, a kind of thematic cancelation.

We’ve been deliberating whether to mention the expansive high tension wires that zag across the view. The potential suppression is likely because the lines complicate a particular picturesque impulse. But of course there’s a lot more we’re leaving out — infinite things  — but these omissions are not for infinite reasons.



We are inclined to say, because of current/pointed personal strife and the general current/pointed societal strife, that there are two main types of people — those that believe their thoughts and those that know human thought to be very limited, and therefore have more of a relationship with their thoughts.