Waiting it out is so time consuming
2005-12-17 10:38:32
An old woman of peasant stock sat in the late afternoon sun, looking down at the veiny hands in her lap. Scanning the little scars and remembering where each one came from brought back one vignette after another. “How is it even possible to have a past when it’s always now and ever shall be?” she whispered to the empty room. And yet the evidence was there. Many winters and lots of turpentine had dried her hands. Now another dusk and they remain un-held. Just examining each other.
She truly did live outside the trudging, linear gutter of time. (continued...)
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2005-12-17 10:35:03
A painter and a (continued...)
