Washed up on the shore of paper.
Tag Archives: paper
I see a caret, arrow, circumflex.
I see accents aigu and grave.
I see tomorrow but only in my mind.
I see the table and the paper.
I see vigor. I see sunlight.
I see a flimsy tissue, leaves printed on one side and a small saying on the other. Inserted into envelopes. Like bank deposits, or like cookie envelopes. Anything. Or in a stack of slips, withdrawal or deposit, anything.
I am sleepy I am escapade I am trying and I am embroiled enmeshed in software wanting hard to order paper dreaming of a touch of handmade paper khadi paper and a morning watercolor made in the land of garbage and the land of smells.