actors not liars but artists

Jan 05 2012

i thought of painting a miniature. one of those girls [young lady] swathed in white cotton and straw hat, riding boots to guard against snakebite, indistinctly present in wildflower field next to a eucalypt tract, where perhaps it has rained not too long ago and the world is still freshly exhaling its moistened breath. suspended blurrily in the light which is in intensity on the boundary between early morning clarity or afternoon bashfulness and in the long brown grass strands with the bumblebees butterflies and splotches of elegantly pretty blossoms. the summer haze of her moment here is framed within the firmness of the more finely delineated distance, where a few sheep or cattle graze on lush paddock, and her hundredyear ancient farmhome reaches forth its tendril of smoke, and things remember something of the special knack of discriminating between one another. [insufficient description with missing central elements]

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