“that was her magic, she could still see the sunset, even of those darkest of days.” - a

“that was her magic,

she could still see the sunset,

even of those darkest of days.”

- atticus

Well I HAD intended to post this this morning, however the little beastie had other plans and the day escaped me. SO, these are my morning thoughts, shared beneath the silvery light o’ the moon.

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Over here in California, after a stream of several very summer-esque days, finally the rush of spring is upon us. The tree outside my studio is blooming, its lithe ashy branches spouting the most delicate white flowers - flowers I’m itching to explore and paint. Oh, but time … It moves in drips and gushes, doesn’t it? I cannot believe in a matter of days, my little Pickle will turn 2 months old.

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Here’s a sneak peek of something pretty and purple and but not particularly pungent.

Oh, alliterations, you SLAY me.
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