For almost a year I have been trying to attach some interesting commentary to this photograph.
If I had the writing skill of Michael Dickson, I would conjure up a tale of bats, corn bread, and the soothing nature of pumpkin-colored paint.
If I had the wit of Richard Lander, I would create a new SMA gang based on the secret signals of star-crossed lovers.
If I had the charm of Babs, I would tell you that the experience of colors should be enjoyed for their own sake.
If I had the writing skill of Michael Dickson, I would conjure up a tale of bats, corn bread, and the soothing nature of pumpkin-colored paint.
If I had the wit of Richard Lander, I would create a new SMA gang based on the secret signals of star-crossed lovers.
If I had the charm of Babs, I would tell you that the experience of colors should be enjoyed for their own sake.
If I had the photographer eye of Billie, I could tell you how I carefully framed what would be an otherwise incomprehensible jumble of shapes.
If I had the exotic taste and intelligence of Jennifer Rose, I would work in an Chilean dwarf and several political quips.
But I am just simple me -- and nothing like that would come to mind.
For some reason, I kept hearing the nursery rhyme: "And the dish ran away with the spoon." The best I could do was create a short story about Señor broom with his snappy crew cut seeing Señorita mop at the local dance, only to be rebuffed when he asks her to dance.
There is far too much tragedy in that tale. It is just a photograph of a door, a mop, and a broom. And that is good enough for me today.
If I had the exotic taste and intelligence of Jennifer Rose, I would work in an Chilean dwarf and several political quips.
But I am just simple me -- and nothing like that would come to mind.
For some reason, I kept hearing the nursery rhyme: "And the dish ran away with the spoon." The best I could do was create a short story about Señor broom with his snappy crew cut seeing Señorita mop at the local dance, only to be rebuffed when he asks her to dance.
There is far too much tragedy in that tale. It is just a photograph of a door, a mop, and a broom. And that is good enough for me today.
