Today we cull from the series, Rain Paintings, with only a dash of ranting. We've always been drawn in to the squashed remains of street life after a storm, which has further swollen, scrambled, eroded and abstracted the materials:
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| Banana holds her line |
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| Squashed abandoned sock, sturdy cousin of Squashed Abandoned Glove Such a sense of direction, anyhow .... |
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| Dawn til Dusk |
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| Truly is a pot of Liquid Gold |
From the unincorporated Area
Until we meet again.
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