I have admired you from afar for some time. That warm affection that kindled in my heart has put poems and stories of adulation on my paper. But dare I not address my feelings to your face. Fear of rejection has glued my quivering lips together. What is this peculiar fondness? Perhaps I’m in love with the theory of you. Perhaps the unlikeness of your reciprocated affection appeals to my tendency to swoon over those I could never have. All you would have to do is reach out and touch my chest to learn of my funny adoration. My palpitating heart and faltering words would quickly betray me. But I know you won’t. And so I keep my distance and envision you in my dreams. You are only a muse. Never will you be anything more.
These are pictures from later December and early January. Last five pictures link to my flickr.