The artist and his craft.
The basket shifted ever so slightly, with a force akin to the flap of a butterfly’s wings. It moved but a hair’s breadth, an immeasurable expanse of space and being. And then came the vines.
Bleh. I'm not used to be being sick, but I have a pretty nasty cold, and it makes for pretty nasty photos.
Oh, and thank you for the 500,000 views. You guys are awesome.