Thoughtful days and thoughtful jorneys, our lives takes us all kinds of places and we cherish the company as well as the serenity of being alone. My travels today took me do a beautiful place, it was a place of art and beauty and i was joined by my good friend Elotte who always manages to know the best places to visit in SL. Although his mood was very melancholic we sill managed to enjoy a good part of the evening just looking around the different exhibits they had to offer. 
We were both struck by this beautiful picture of a little pink haired girl, its called 'Virgin & Child' i don't recall the artists name but this painting was carefully placed amid the array of different shrubs and flowers, close by was a ticking clock and up in the branches was a baby in the womb. It was very thought provoking and i remained looking round the exhibit for some time.
Moving on we visited the strange kind of shacks on an abandoned isle exhibit, we ran across the shallow water that surrounds all the islands with its green, mossy bottom and up onto the sand where a lone figure of a lady stood. We stopped by close to her but she never spoke, she seemed lost in thought somehow...not sure if she was part of the art or not. We stopped close to a shallow part of water where this picture was taken...
The light was from the candle on my bag.
The flowers were so beautiful that had grown in thickness surrounding the old cottage, the sunlight filtered through the tress and highlighted each and every colour, it was truly lovely to see and walk through. Once you get into the actual cottage its quite topsy turvy with one room having odd mirrors that seem to distort eveything, in the far corner is an old desk with a knocked over chair, it had all the feel of an old abandoned house, i loved it.
'The over grown cottage garden'
'A peaceful moment to ponder'
We wondered about the artist easel on the dock of what seemed to be an overgrown greenhouse. Inside were two rocking chairs that if you sat in it, it made you look like a crazy person rocking back and forth. But the easel seemed odd, the pose on the chair was a very sad looking one, the artist looked lost and forgotton, his canvas is empty as if he is struggling to relay some memory gone onto it...it was very though provoking once again, same with the while sim. I really enjoyed it and would certainly go back and take a friend...very interesting place!
She never felt any fear being alone in a strange place, in many ways she found it perfectly normal and would always furrow her brow in confusion when she saw the flash of her mother dashing towards her, her face angry and concerned all at the same time, before she could explain to her mother that all is fine...she would feel the vice grip on her arm, her small feet almost lifting from the floor as she is dragged back to where she is supposed to be, her mothers voice babbling incoherently about her being a 'silly girl' and how worried she had been, words about 'bad men'...all Flower could do was sigh wistfully and go along with her daily life.
Flower looked for a long time, her eyes looking back at her father, who was still laughing and smiling with the pretty woman in the shop. She moved her legs, twisting her body and unclipping her seatbelt...she leant forwards and grabbed her little yellow umbrella, stuffing it under her arm she crawled into the front seat and opened the driver car door, jumping out into the rain, carefully clinking it closed behind her.
He looked at her and she was looking right at him. The rain had stopped, finally after what seemed like forever and the sun was starting to rise over the silohette of the city, warming his skin as he shivered in the muggy air.
His dark and closed loneliness
I stopped at the top and looked around, scanning the fields, the sun had turned them to an amazing array of yellows and pinks, they sat still and undisturbed, silent and wistful. I narrowed my eyes, brushing away stray strands of hair from my eyes. I wondered which way he could have gone, i could not predict his moments, his mood had been so forlorn that night, we had sat in the tavern until the night grew to morning, his head was slunk low onto the table, the smell of ale leaking from his every pore, he swayed gently and i had rubbed my hand across his hunched shoulders, holding back sympathy yet enough for him to know i was there.
