I started out with intentions of painting the rose. This particular guy had grown to over 6 feet tall and has been peering at me across my privacy fence with the look of “what’s a guy gotta do to get waited on around here??” I was sitting on my back porch, reading, when I realized I could feel the rose staring at me…..again. I decided then and there it was painting time and who my next subject was gonna be. Unfortunately for the rose, I made the mistake of picking up the first vase I came to, which is covered in a mosaic of mirrors. With that much flash, I guess it was inevitable that Mr. Lincoln would end up playing second string. I am actually starting to feel quite guilty about the whole affair. If he hangs in for the night, I promise to give him center stage tomorrow.
To reply to this post, email Dreama at: