The rug has orange-rust and gold colors
highlighted with cornflower blue. The patterns remind me of ancient Turkey
or the Middle East. The acoustic guitar leans on the rug toward a stack of things,
a broken amp, a make-up case and a camera.
It leans on these things, a tower of creativity.
The broken amp.
The make-up case.
The camera.
These things make sound, make artifice, and capture life.
The guitar does all these things.
The rug mainly just covers the floor.
Yet without its wild patterns
it would just be bare wood
hardly a breeding ground
for creativity which requires many intricate threads
to be woven together
with purpose.
