Wisps of cloud. Harsh sun.
A tree bows before the wind.
Break. The peak rises.
About the Creator
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The Endless Gallery
I hadn’t felt this moved by a painting in decades. Each tilt of my head brought a different perspective of swirling color. Waves of red swept into eddies of ochre oranges and sulfuric yellows. The longer you looked at it, the less any of the colors wanted to stand still. It might have shown a sunset, or the thin skin of a star. I ached to possess the skill the artist so clearly had possessed. The command of colors, of emotions. All placed on canvas by merely human hands.
By Bryan Brady3 years ago in Fiction
Boundless
A geographical map could take you there. To the places I've been, to the sights I've seen, to the landscapes I've climbed. But no compass could point you in the direction of my memories. To the experiences I've lived, to the happiness I've felt, to the wonder I've held so close to my heart.
By Alyssa Mussoabout 13 hours ago in Writers
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