I visualize the landscape-lonely and forbidding. I wonder where I am this time, within my dream-world. Surely a not pleasant place though it holds a certain mystery. I think of myself, how alone, different, isolated I have always been. Suddenly, I recognize my attraction to the picture. The salt mound or is it sandstone-worn but still surviving, like me. Present, but not seeming to belong there.
Drawing one’s eye, inviting one to explore it, see what it is made of. One would think as their hand ran gently down the surface. Never quite fitting the world it is part of.
beebeesworld 