I require no more reason to be transfixed. My eyes trace a horseman galloping across the clearing and is absorbed into the amorphous shadows cast by a monolithic prehistoric tree rising from the dew soaked meadow. Slices of silver moonlight light become anomalies appearing and disappearing. I make them into symbols that take on specific meanings to me. Most times I let them dance there and they soon disappear. Other times I entertain them with my attention and they soak my cortex as creative ideas so I am never short of inspiration. Often they are waiting for me there at the foot of the bed when dawn breaks, in startling reality. These I will carry to the easel and into paint.