Today is the last day for my giveaway...but not the last giveaway ever, I'll start another one up soon just because I want my book to get into the hands of readers...it's about the book, not the money. I'm in the "red", but my books are being "read" and that's more important to me. (I'm not going to quit my day job any time soon.)
I do have a book signing coming up on Saturday, August 7th at The Gallery where my Fred and I hang our artwork in Liverpool NY, if you're in the CNY area, stop by and say 'hi', if I have enough peeps lingering around enjoying themselves in our little gallery, I just might do a reading at 3PM...
This little bit that I'm posting this morning is just a little bit... after reading through Sylvester's thoughts in Chapter 3, the beginning of Chapter 4 returns to Samantha's point of view, her thoughts about Sylvester and how she sees him, and what he means to her...
***
Poor, sad, Sylvester, I wish he could be happier! I hated to leave him like this, but I have no choice — I must go home. With one last glance over my shoulder, I witnessed the tormented image of him lying on his back staring at the ceiling with his head pillowed on one wiry arm stretched up behind his head. His skin lightly tanned by this past summer’s sun, except for the hollow of his open armpit that remained pale from being unexposed. For a moment, my eyes remained transfixed with fascination on this spot with its raw thatch of brown hair fanned out like a natural cluster of marram grass growing in a protected contour of a sand dune — this is beautiful to me. This is just one small place on his body that I love to study, my mind breaking it down to its simplified shapes, then examining the way light and shadow drapes over his skin creating delicate shifts of color. It’s my special way of seeing, I could look at him all day — and then draw all night the things that I have seen — precious flesh, fascinating bones — he’s just a man, but so much more — structure and spirit — the things about him that I love.
I do have a book signing coming up on Saturday, August 7th at The Gallery where my Fred and I hang our artwork in Liverpool NY, if you're in the CNY area, stop by and say 'hi', if I have enough peeps lingering around enjoying themselves in our little gallery, I just might do a reading at 3PM...
This little bit that I'm posting this morning is just a little bit... after reading through Sylvester's thoughts in Chapter 3, the beginning of Chapter 4 returns to Samantha's point of view, her thoughts about Sylvester and how she sees him, and what he means to her...
***
Poor, sad, Sylvester, I wish he could be happier! I hated to leave him like this, but I have no choice — I must go home. With one last glance over my shoulder, I witnessed the tormented image of him lying on his back staring at the ceiling with his head pillowed on one wiry arm stretched up behind his head. His skin lightly tanned by this past summer’s sun, except for the hollow of his open armpit that remained pale from being unexposed. For a moment, my eyes remained transfixed with fascination on this spot with its raw thatch of brown hair fanned out like a natural cluster of marram grass growing in a protected contour of a sand dune — this is beautiful to me. This is just one small place on his body that I love to study, my mind breaking it down to its simplified shapes, then examining the way light and shadow drapes over his skin creating delicate shifts of color. It’s my special way of seeing, I could look at him all day — and then draw all night the things that I have seen — precious flesh, fascinating bones — he’s just a man, but so much more — structure and spirit — the things about him that I love.
***
I can cry now, right?