Calligrapher

Oh! If I were a Japanese painter I could do justice to where I sit now, on top of a rock by the river watching a pale sun weakly glow. Through the overcast it will create a calligrapher's world of subtle lines, infer creatures that habituate the river. With a slight wash give the signs that the next storm means to collect its debts of the few orange leaves left on the trees that marked a long years sunrises and sunsets. So we end this year with a clean clear palette. I and my golden dog are small figures on the rock by the woodblock signatures