Mating trance

Greetings,

Welcome to lover's month. Chocolate, roses and hearts. Arrows in quivers shiver shine spine. Find a lover, take a lover. Be a lover. You are beautiful.

We enjoy the delightful peace and quiet of an empty campus. Rising sun, fine cool mornings and nights as a trillion stars sing their trails. We expect a full moon this evening. It will rise over green mountains where monastery lights flicker yellow. Above rural women harvesting greens, turning soil. Women burn old weeds and dead debris. Plumes of thick yellow smoke drift along the river and valley.

Ancient 1-cylinder trucks belch diesel fumes into the air - hauling bricks, dirt, granite stones along thin trash strewn roads as development roars full speed ahead. Piles of discarded black and orange plastic foam inserts for mass produced designer tennis shoes litter pristine paths where a woman in a battered bamboo hat burns burial mounds of plastic. Noxious toxics. They have to dump it, burn it someplace.

Fresh strawberries and winter oranges from the local market taste delicious.
Life is clean and simple in the country. Butterflies play chess and mate.

Peace.

Facial dance

Greetings,

Creative wizards welcome inspiration's lightening bolt. Spontaneous innovation.

Here's a recent playful image for your sensory stimulation. Color and light creates a fine theatrical moment. The Jan-Feb gallery contains additional experimental works.

Mating butterflies? Incredible. They were discovered along a dirt trail. Basking in warm winter sun.
He said "Yes?" and she replied, "Maybe baby. Depends on your wing span and staying power."

Go with the flow, flutterbye.

Peace.