Come down in time. That’s what Elton John sang back in 1971, when my life began. Or, something like that.
There are moments that truly amaze me. I had one of those today. I received a letter that said my checks could no longer be sent to me because they didn’t have my address. Okay. But, at the top of the letter there was an address. Mine.
Before you ask.
Yes. It came from the federal government. I tried to call them. They are closed. I forgot.
It’s Veterans Day. Before I forgot to do this, for all of you who served, thank you for your service. For all those who served in Vietnam, welcome home.
We watched a movie last night called “Outpost.” It was about a distant firebase in Afghanistan. It was an army compound. Whenever something fubar happened, one soldier would say snarkily to another, “And, thank you for your service.”
They know, as I do, “Thank you for your service,” has become very empty. Most people say it without thinking. It means something. Or, it should.
And, that’s the story for today.
Stay safe. Stay mighty. Wear your gloves.
What the hell is that thing? I know that’s what you are thinking.
It’s a couple of flower blooms. You know the drill. I tinker with this stuff until something emerges.
Not this time.
A few weeks ago I published a picture of a truck that was all mist rolling down the highway.
A friend of mine really liked it. He said that I should stop talking about paintings and the like.
He added that no matter how we try, digital is digital. It is its own art form. Stop apologizing.
I took that to heart.
I made a picture of some tiny pink flowers that seem to bloom whenever they feel like it.
It was slightly soft, so I thought why not this one? I did my usual tinkering. I sent it to him.
He replied that it might need some color in those white “blobs.” He meant flowers.
I did that. And, that’s what you are looking at.
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