I don't ever get one bit tired of the moon.
Never ever had a life without it, and neither have you.
Night has always been a friend, sometimes it comes to get me and I am unmoored, but it is still my friend.
Stars close to the ground and luminous fog, those are the high times, and when there are no clouds and blackness and the spilt milky way.
A monotonous-seeming poetry, though vast, narrates my thoughts, and the night feels just a little bit contained.
The sun comes up.
My muscles wake up, and forget until it arrives again, the sun goes down, and it is time to open a bottle of ink and get to work.
The Night of Malcolm Finch
8" X 6"
Original painting made on October 5th, 2025
Ink, watercolor, razor blade on Khadi handmade cotton rag paper made in Karnataka, South India