Psych
Artistic
Lucky GrassLucky Grass by Christopher FernandesLucky Grass
A mountain summer’s morning I sit under a great Ponderosa Pine, smells of sweet vanilla lingering, in the Wenatchee National Forest somewhere off of highway 410 in the center of Washington. Out of breath from a morning jog, I’m not used to the thin air, I find some fresh air under this giant of a tree.
Light-headed-daydreaming I stare at a single blade of grass in a patch of dry clayish soil.
That blade of grass never gets to experience love or joy, it never gets to taste sweet chocolate or drink tea by the fire while
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[link]
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"Through my seventh sense that's hallucinating . . . anyway we're artifacts of demigodly zero logic denizens"
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Have no fear of perfection - you'll never reach it.
--Salvador Dali
Cheak out my
Cheak out my Scraps: [link]
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my gallery: [link]
my faves: [link]
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Holy non-sensical exclamation, Batman!
By the beard of Zeus!
If you could read my mind, love, what a tale my thoughts would tell.
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"We roll tonight... to the guitar bite... and for those about to rock... I salute you."
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