Today's commute is painted in broad, patient strokes. Cadmium hues of yellow and orange shine down upon me and the warmth on my skin is more blessing than curse.
Cerulean with hints of Ultramarine gently caress the barriers of the causeway, disturbed only by the 'V' shaped wakes pushed by dabs of Titanium White boats out for a morning charter.
Vermillion, Burnt Sienna and Yellow Ochre fly overhead, categorically flocked. They dance and drift in the endless currents of the Cobalt sky, high above.
My commute is a stroll through a seaside gallery, the smell of mineral spirits and ocean salt accent the air.
Idle to observe a landscape at the portal intersection on this chromatic morning, I take notice of the sky rise made of nothing but reflection and angles, just northeast of where I sit, hoping for the Permanent Alizarin traffic light to live up to its name. The building is not made of mortar, steel and glass but of the sky itself. It is an exquisite example of unique geometry and optical illusion.
Three large, predominantly Zinc White feathered birds with hints of Warm Gray Dark on the tips of their wings and Lemon Yellow beaks soar and float in unison on the swirling draft created by the expansive sky tower. Two of the three birds bend and distort as if refracted by glass, while the centered bird is at the helm, dictating the movements of her marionettes. Following up and down, they dutifully obey her silent commands.
A sharp honk from behind disrupts my observation and equally disturbs the flight pattern of our Zinc White dancers. The center bird quickly breaks away from the geometric shapes while the other two vanish altogether, as if they were never there at all.
As the lone bird flies away into blissful Cadmium hues, she looks as free as I feel at that moment.
Several honks and beeps deploy with impatience and disdain, peeling me away from this meditative still life. The traffic light is now Oxide of Chromium and as I finally press on through the portal intersection of West Kennedy Boulevard and Dale Mabry, the world desaturates to Payne's Gray.
Today's Jazz Hands started with a blank canvas.
Today's Jazz Hands started with a blank canvas.
Day two-hundred and seventy-seven complete.
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