where do we go to clear our minds. that place that brings us no stress no thought. no car can create the feeling it has to be made by foot. the grass flows past my legs, the wind blowing though the trees. each step you know this walk will end in a piece that people will see but only that person set out to seek total randomness. climb down the rocks. paint out and go. you never knew moss covered rocks were so hard to paint on. thats all part of the painting. small piece..done. long walk home. but a head full of completion.
The walk there
