Saturday, October 18, 2008
painted otherwhere
I was on the train platform in Hartford. The sun was pouring down and I could smell creosote from the tracks. The platform was thick with dust between the worn, wooden boards. I took out my small watercolor book and painted this in my lap, thinking of the new painting yet to be made:
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1 comment:
Creosote is about as startling a scent as there is, I think. Certain to glue a memory to the brain.
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