I want to paint

the cries of the crystal clear sea as it crashes crazily against the once-popular shore of  Casperson Beach,
the impossibility of tarnished,turquoise tarmac descending from the beautiful baby blue sky,
the sound of the early bird’s song and travelling through the silver sunrise like a shimmering shooting star soaring across the midnight sky.

I want to paint

the gradual gradient of the roomy, raw river while it moves calm and invitingly,
an abandoned ancient tomb being raided by hawkish hooligans, looking for transfixing treasure,

the memory of an astronomical oak tree, swaying in the husky, hurricane-like winds and the memory of of the gory, Great War and its silver, shining aircraft zooming through the acrid smoke of the courageous cannons of the enemy.

I want to paint

the distance between wintry water and blazing flames, both glimmering in the summery sun,

the shimmering scarlet sunset from the view from Bosley Cloud.

I Want To Paint Freedom.