Why do I keep thinking there is someplace better to go, when I am free as free can be to travel to this country, where paintings bloom in all manner of ways, and no matter what disappointments lurk, something magical always, always happens to me?
PS: It’s not your eyes, the blog looks different. It might look different-er tomorrow! It just depends on how much coffee I drink after 5pm…
what is beautiful remains 
Lovely and magical – the words, the colors, the paintings.
Light, bright and lovely! Like a sip of champagne…