I prefer abstract art because I am bound and tangled by the rules and details of daily life; taking life and making it abstract, surreal or slightly skewed is a comforting departure from being ensnared in the thorny vines of reality.
Peas, beats, collards in damp warm soil.
Indoor spinach early fall.
Winter’s lettuce, arugula, cilantro.
The city wept when I left. It was physically symbiotic, proper and figurative, strange and cyclic, connecting and disconnected once again.
Not beautiful as in symmetrical, but beautiful as in boundless; unconfined.