Only greed makes me want more than this: gold-leafed maples, soybean nuggets, and rich fields in my Midwest. Yet I crave New Mexican acreage,
I. Van Gogh’s “The Sower” We live knowing how Van Gogh’s incendiary sun stabs at a wheatfield in Arles, the vivid, ecstatic colors of
The quiet man walks through the town, alone. Sits in cafés, pours & drinks his coffee, alone. Taps his pencil on the table, watches