61/62He mentally became a bird, flying overhead, envisioning where he would land on the street map.
He enjoyed using his eyes as a camera. He remembered the first time discovering he could art direct a film in his mind. He was a young boy sitting w/ friends in a one car garage in Santa Cruz. Six tidy folding chairs were arranged toward the Victorian theater. The modest host made final preparations to work the colorful paper stage, characters + props. He patiently waited for the lights to dim. Idly looking over to the shelves, he zeroed in on a heavy volume, cocked his head to silently read the title. A tome cataloguing Picasso’s work. His gaze widened to see another Pablo book just on either side. + another + another... Slowly, indulgently his mental camera pulled back to reveal that the entire wall beheld a multitude of books on the artist Pablo Picasso.
-jahh / Parallel Chances Tend to Neglect