Cleo
That look, the intense glare of Siamese blue eyes. If looks could kill . . . truth be told, her coat...
Work Day Sunrise
I still have to work a job these days to keep a roof over my head, lights on, obtain food for the barbeque, drive to the beach for a surf when there is time, and of course pay for paper and pigments.
Very early in the morning I go into a building, sit at a computer, and work a different type of canvas, one of ASCII characters, control blocks, functions and classes.
It's not so bad. I have a third story window to gaze out of, work with people smarter and faster than myself from which there is a lot to learn, and am paid enough to actually live, but the time I spend in this building is not who I am.
Every morning before going in, I turn to the east, sometimes seeing the birth of a new day like this one, and am reminded that every moment of every day I am very fortunate, as we all are.
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