Well, I was pretty danged happy then, there. That was in Georgia. I don't know that I believe I'll ever be without a certain cloud I've acquired since then. Not that there were no clouds then. But.
I suppose you can guess who took the picture.
How ridiculous is it to be sad thinking of being happy?
Isn't growing old just the accumulation of clouds and aches and pains? And isn't thinking about being happy one of the saddest things in life? And do I have a clue of what I am talking about? The last question is easy to answer: No.
But it certainly is a marvelouly garish picture. And so rich in the subtractive primaries (CMYK)!
Well, many times when you're thinking of being happy in the past, the memories are tinged with nostalgia and/or sadness simply because the happy time or situation or event is over. I know that sounds terribly simplistic, but it doesn't seem that complicated (or at all ridiculous) that happy memories of Georgia would make you sad.
BTW, I like peteralway's assessment of growing old.
It's wallpaper. In the original, pre-crop shot you can see the molding, and height of the room---it was the front parlor (living room) in the Victorian of the Pobanzez we were living in in Brunswick. I look at other stuff scattered around the room & remember how the Pobanzai were down from Atlanta around then, & we had been hangin' with the kids. It was fun.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
I suppose you can guess who took the picture.
How ridiculous is it to be sad thinking of being happy?
no subject
But it certainly is a marvelouly garish picture. And so rich in the subtractive primaries (CMYK)!
no subject
Hey, I have something for you. From Math Reviews &
no subject
no subject
no subject
BTW, I like
no subject
no subject
how could that not please you!
no subject
no subject
no subject
Indeed, and that odd shade of green from earlier in the last century by the looks of it. It sounded like it was a fun house.