sitting and staring

sitting and staring

Stepping back, closing an eye, holding up a mirror, a thumb.
I've been painting in the dark to allow chance to select a color from my palette. 


I remember someone in Budapest twenty years ago.  At the Goethe Institute cafe a woman entered and sat smiling.  A stranger, I still managed to ask her why she was smiling.  She described how she was visiting Budapest because it was her favorite city.  (Her other favorite was Reykjavik.)  A city can be a pleasure, a taste like that of an ice cream cone.  

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