scott-plain

September 6, 2024

The plain was dry and cold and covered in an icy sheet for there had been no sun in that place, no font of warmth, until one chimeric morning the sun first dawn above the distant hill and spanned the horizon line with its pallid and steaming glare illuminating the new cerulean firmament and below it the shades of the Earth came to life as if a brush were dragged over paper, a watercolor iconography captured across mossy stone.

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Thought:

“Sooner or later words force one into a choice, a narrowing down, at some point the lustrous density of all the unexpressed possibilities must be attacked, pulverized, melted down, dissolved.“

Daniƫl Robberechts | Arriving in Avignon

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