The Tumbled Sea - Summer V

It's been awhile since I've found a song I'd like to learn to play in its entirety.

 

Bent double, knees on hardwood floor, we wore our fingers down blending colors from soft pastels, lost in the moment as our subconscious free flowed on to sheets of thick paper. 

Sometimes, it's good to have a glass or two on a quiet Friday night with a friend--it helps with the creative process.  Wine and a Kiss on the Lips?  This may become the start of a new habit. 

Thanks, D.  I'll stick it on my fridge.  Cheers for two years.  

I ran across the dewy field today wearing a navy bow-tie cardigan over a butter yellow skirt--it was very liberating, the whole prancing about without pants thing.  Now if the sun wasn't simultaneously tanning my skin and bleaching my hair at such a rate before my very eyes, I could've portrayed a modern-day, casual Snow White.

Yet, despite my haste, I was still late for class--as well as two shades darker than I was this morning upon arrival.

How unforgiving.

The longer you are without something, the quicker your need for it lessens; it's a reprieving feeling as well as a frightening one at the same time. 

However, the sense of loss involved under these circumstances render much confusion in my mind--is this progressive or recessive?  Does it indicate a feeling of security or indifference?  What kind of an adaptation is occurring?

Just me and an enormous mug (yes, mug) of cheap wine in this empty house.  It's rather appropriate for the type of material I'm currently reading for class--dry.

I have a feeling that neither will be finished by the end of tonight.

Poor planning and disorganization--spontaneity, I've found, tends to lead to these extremely unattractive ramifications.

Ashes & Dialect - Burning

One, two deep breathes

Count to ten
And nod your head

Sunlight's burning, sunlight's burning