I'm working my way towards something with this one. I like painting in that there is no deceit. I am either where I want to be, or I am some distance from it. I am starting to develop some sort of religiosity to painting; I don't think it can be helped.
I am presently sitting in MDW on my way to SJC. Had a wedge salad and an IPA. Someone nearby is wearing sandalwood. As a roommate, cgod burned a lot of sandalwood, and stocked our small bookshelf with nautical fiction. The olfactory system is amazing.
My father's favorite uncle just died. He would be sad if he were here to be so.
Thanks for the read, lil.
Edit: No it was nag champa. Right smell, wrong name.