Someone stated this simple fact.
“there is a place for all art, including ugly art”
pretty encouraging really.
A man , perhaps like myself chose that he like his ashes scattered from the end of the cliffs.
Cliffs he had walked along often in LIFE.
where he used to know a cafe ,where with family plus his mates, enjoy a cuppa. They’d sit on wooden outside benches, chatting, recovering from walk. Sometimes wind blew hard,cold perhaps too often.
Never liked seagulls that stood on the railing, all puffed up with screamingly own importance, he knew they were the bullies of Ornithological world. The Puffins made up for this disturbance by simply being cute,coulerful and local.
Returning to this medium after short period exploring making `nonsense of God`.
What couler am l ?
Does that couler change daily?
Is it a reflection of the mood l am in?
How do l capture that mood,that feeling,that emotion.
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