misled

You think that comparing a meaningless picture to an Edward Hopper painting is a good enough sign of a common ground. 

You astound when he asks you where Cheryl´s book is and you end up exchanging your favorite literature one night before falling asleep, because you think it´s a sign of a common soul.

You smile when he says he wants to go to the Philharmonic before leaving, because it´s a sign of a common sensitivity.

You hope that those hands holding you back each time you say you had enough are a sign of a common heart.

  

You are wrong. 

   

The times, they are a-changing

(in my opinion, not always for the better) 

the art of writing

I stole this picture from the web. It was in an article about an abandoned, decaying mental hospital around NY.

I fell in love with the shot, the shape and light balance, the soft, dusty colors; it´s almost as if I could reach out my hand and scratch the peeling walls, breathing in the dump air of the solitary place and hearing the echo of the clicking typewriters.

So sorry not to be able to give credit to the author of this picture. But thank you, for your art.

On the road again

How many visions fit in a handful of days?