Around 1948 or ‘49, laying on my back on our lawn in South Gate, looking straight up into a flawless blue sky, I enjoyed watching undulating patterns which filled my vision. The longer I looked at them, the more they activated, faster, and crazily more complicated. Looking higher, the surface of the patterns filled the space between distant blue and me on the ground. It felt like I was reversed, I was falling into the deep sky.
Paint What You See
Paint What You See
Paint What You See
Around 1948 or ‘49, laying on my back on our lawn in South Gate, looking straight up into a flawless blue sky, I enjoyed watching undulating patterns which filled my vision. The longer I looked at them, the more they activated, faster, and crazily more complicated. Looking higher, the surface of the patterns filled the space between distant blue and me on the ground. It felt like I was reversed, I was falling into the deep sky.