Thirsting years.

Skip, like you, is the conception of a pure thought, one that is wrought from impurities embedded in the dull hum of the mind. Art is the abstraction. Actually, his name is Art. His occupation is proxy for anything he’s supposed to be doing. An earthbound western citizen, but if your heart was a dartboard, he’d be that gnarly feather-tailed dart stuck in a familiar place. Traveled a bit, prefers prodigal journeys into the unattended corners of the mind, without a transit for navigation or sack for plundering. He enjoys a good read or anything that might hasten destiny between a friend and himself. You can visit Skip's blog at Phosporimental.