There is a very beautiful bit of shine on the edge of an orange vase right now. The room is dark save for one lamp. There are voices in the street drifting up from the last revelers at the bar below. I woke up a bit over an hour ago and have been painting, or sort of painting—playing around with a free pa…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to A Writer's Notebook to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.