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Through my bedroom window I look at clouds illuminated by the full moon and study the puffs of subdued white, yellowish-faint-purple, and pink pillows floating across the sky. An occasional star peaks through the clouds and mist as the clouds are ushered along by the wind. Laying on my bed, I feel perhaps a little like Vincent may have felt when he took brush to canvas and gave us his rendition of what his mind saw in the heavens that starry night in southern France.
Not only was it Vincent's imagination that created the painting so many generations have adored and continue to adore. It was also the moon playing with the clouds and joining the stars playing their game of peek-a-boo that imprinted in Vincent's mind his interpretation of that starry night.
It is 3:02 in the morning and the clouds are getting brighter as the moon moves toward the west. It is a light-show powerful enough to let Timothy Leary set aside his mind-altering experiments and savor what the heavens are delivering overhead.
Mounting my camera to tripod I attempt to capture what
is taking place in the heavens in digital format just, just
as Vincent captured on canvase, what he saw that starry
night with his paint brushes. My image will not be as
vibrant as Vincent’s, but just as Vincent worked the oils,
I will work with the pixels to try and share what my mind’s
eye is admiring.
I won’t cut off my ear. At least not this wonderful morning.
There are pictures that must be taken.