BEEN THINKIN’ ABOUT… THE END OF THE ROAD. The old road winds down the ridge and down through the holler. In the mountains of the South, “holler” just means “hollow” — like Sleepy Hollow — or, more specifically, “a small valley.” The word comes from the Old English word holh, meaning cave or hole in…
BEEN THINKIN’ ABOUT… DARK TOWN SNOW. The painting hangs in the gallery, testament to a thousand small towns, a thousand Americas across the winter, a thousand winter nights. The weathered, lonely red bricks of an easily overlooked downtown, the black of the sky, white snow piled on old wooden steps. Unseen street lamp illuminates the…
BEEN THINKIN’ ABOUT… RAIN, SUN, SWEAT. The heat waned marginally as the sun slowed to the horizon. Another day almost done, another mile, another thought, another schedule. Slowly, the crazy and swirling thoughts and voices past and present began to fade. The late afternoon sun might have dropped the temperature, but not the humidity. End…