I love the Tuscano catalog. There's always neat stuff in there. Some of it's low cost, some of it's expensive, but they do art reproductions too.
So I'm looking through this stuff with my roomie peeking over my shoulder. All I can think about is the very dark and red picture of the an Oracle of Delphi, her hood pulled down so she can just peek from under the hood, sitting on a high chair over a crack. Fumes are wafting up from the crack and she holds an olive branch in one hand.
I dunno, I saw the little devil plushie of Strife's and somehow it made me think of red and fumes.
Regardless, it just makes me reflect on the spiritual wasteland that I live in. I live in the dead center of the bible belt, so those pagans that I find here are either quite happy to practice on their own (thank you very much) or waayyyy too freaky for me to consider even having fellowship with (delusional might be a good word here as well).
Let's just say I approach some things (mainly people) with a healthy amount of skepticism.
I am trying to bide time. I know I won't be here forever, but this place is really not where I'm longing to be. Give me green over this crunchy, yellowed and dead grass any day. I'll trade you cactus for trees any day.
I am restless, but determined. There's stuff to be done here, I'm sure of it.