second wind

private commission

as i struggled to find a second wind and do this evening's painting, james fell asleep in his chair like an old man, head tilted back.  looking up now and again from my work, i'd find him staring at me.  he quietly picked up his lap slide and started twanging along with the music.  i drank my whiskey hot water lemon, and lazily brushed the colors where they seemed fitting, reveling in the sleepy delirium of my cozy living room studio.

the beta band: dry the rain