Adjacent

Finding art and beauty in everything lately. Threw Bean and Shane a co-ed shower for Button a while back and during clean up some of the leftovers mingled together in a pleasing menagerie of texture and composition. I dig the rather garish colors as well. Pickles, rocket, croutons, and candy of cotton.

“Extra”

“Pickly”

“Pickles”

Then at the store, these hearts nearly leapt out at me, with a call to join their army of love. Fall in line!

“Soldier”

And this walk- nothing oddly unusual, just nature wearing its glory au naturel.

“Walken”


A pause before entrance.

“Gravitron”

Spent some time in O Canada last summer where I stopped in at Miniature World. The carnivalian (gettin’ wordy with words) circus scene was an absolute favorite. It employed sooo many little figurines of people and I wondered how many folks set them all up- just one? They aren’t willy-nilly- they’re all in an interaction or have a place to be. No red noses though. I’m partial to the guy at the far right walking out of frame, the way the lower half of his coat’s taken flight. The scene sprawls for many feet beyond the photo filled with replicas of all the classic rides found in such places. Push a button and the lights dim causing everything to glow in the dark under black lights.

Oh, yes, and there’s this dandy as well.

“What

In things with a bit less beauty, I had to take part of my car dash apart recently in the hopes of installing a new flasher relay, no blinkers = no darn good. Took me less than five minutes to remove the two screws and swap the thing out. Success! Even learned what the heck torx 20 screws were and that they allowed me to finally use the star tip bits in the screwdriver kit. It then took me no less than a stinking (pee-yew) half an hour to get the darned things back in place. At any rate, I can now flash people freely again, and we’re all better for it.

“Wash

Gosh, three days after a trip through the car wash and nothing to show for it according to the photo here.

“A”

It would appear that I’m still evil as someone felt they must brand my little car on the passenger’s side door. They must know it’s best spelled with an “A” as well. Most of the time it doesn’t display itself quite so prominently, and with the circle not etched in as deep, I’m merely marked as though with a scarlet letter. (In other things anarchy, Bender’s lines continually repeat in my mind as I write.)

“For

Those are stars in my ears, uh, eyes. ♦

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