I wonder if I’m natural? thought Blurtso. I wonder if I’m in tune with nature? I wonder if I have been paralyzed by over thinking…?
…..I guess not.
The art of painting, said Bonny, is to capture one of life’s moments on canvas. The art of living is to let those moments go.
Exploiting the grey scale, said Bonny, can give your canvas a dramatic quality.
Doo dee doo dee doo, dee dee dee dee dee…
Hello, said Blurtso. Hello, said Blurtso.
I guess I should try to look less frightening.
Curse these clumsy hoofs! said Blurtso, kicking away his rubik’s cube and trying to fit two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. They’re not good for anything! He looked at his hooves, then he looked at the puzzle, then he looked at his hooves. Well, he said, they have carried me down many roads and across many fields… maybe solving puzzles isn’t so important.
They seem to be in a great hurry
to get to where they can hurry off from.
What? said Blurtso. That cloud, said Alex, it looks like a human. Where? said Blurtso. There, said Alex, can’t you see? That’s its head, and those are its eyes, and those are its ears, and that’s its body and arms and legs… Of course, said Blurtso. And what’s the big dark cloud that looks like an outhouse? That? said Alex. That’s Dick Cheney.
We don’t need you anymore, Blurtso, you’re free to go.
Free? said Blurtso, looking for anything that resembled a chain.
My life is out of control. I’ve been running around like a human without its head cut off. My brain has been strafed with artificial sights and sounds. I’ve got to slow down. I’m just going to stand here until I manage to have at least one sane thought…
I suppose even the busiest people find themselves alone at times—walking to their car, opening a door, taking out the trash—and they glimpse an honest reflection of themselves—transitory, insignificant, unprotected—before rushing to hide beneath responsibilities, overcoats, and routines.