it seems that walking down the street, alone, is where the most free inspiration comes.
my own personal tunnel, breezy and truncated by the approach to the destination
if only wandering would be the way, but desultory wandering takes away the magik for me, there is never
“aimless” anymore
there are leaves, cement, drippy trees, street lines, asphalt, blinders giving awareness to oblivion
and then, the door
