The
sun
was going down and it was warm. I know because my back was sweaty although it is most of the time. The sky was painted cotton candy colors, and the sea below gently breathed in and out changing the tugs of the moon to the bobbing of boats resting in the water. And I thought about that one Van Gogh painting where he paints the grass with butterflies, or that other one where the sun flowers are sitting in a vase. I've never seen it in person, but hopefully you'll go with me. There was a hum of traffic, from cars I'd never seen. But I feel bad for all those painters, but its nice to take walks with you, sharing small smiles, and hearing how different people talk. I feel bad for all the painters, because they never had the right someone to stand under their tree or next to their sunflowers. They must have missed something. Which I won't, although I won't be a famous painter or have a show at the Tate, it won't go lost on me, although I can't paint it, or dance it or sing it, I can tell you.
I remember spending many hours and days under such skies in
Back then I'd call them paint swirl skies. Like a painter was playing with water colors in the sky.
I would say to someone next to me: Isn't it amazing that we get to live in this world, under a painting?