Thought this a good place to break from the landscapes and look at my "Psychic-scapes" from 96. They are always a little dark, even when they are light. I never quit those things. They kept me from hard stuff like Prozac. Wasn't even going to joke about THC. Here is where I really get creepy. When I look at this piece, I think of my maternal grandmother. Eva or Bubby shared four of the five vices with me. I would cry as a toddler until she let me blow on the smoke. Coffee with milk and sugar is what I was weened on. She taught me to discern, and to taste...joy.