The toppled virgin mom. Puts me in the mind of the time Dennis and I walked toward the bus after a snow-flurried, pre-holiday-day at Saks on the Plaza. Happened past a cabbage-patch creche in the barbershop window at the back. How we howled.
Ya know, the Handicapped icon was a pure accident. In truth, the glare was such that I couldn’t see a dang thing. But a couple of people have pointed it out to me. A happy handicapped accident.
The toppled virgin mom. Puts me in the mind of the time Dennis and I walked toward the bus after a snow-flurried, pre-holiday-day at Saks on the Plaza. Happened past a cabbage-patch creche in the barbershop window at the back. How we howled.
Cabbage Patch Crèche: a Precious Moment.
Also, love the handicap reflection.
Ya know, the Handicapped icon was a pure accident. In truth, the glare was such that I couldn’t see a dang thing. But a couple of people have pointed it out to me. A happy handicapped accident.
Hypnagogic, to me.
A hypnagogic state is a happy one. Or so it seems to me.