With my scratched eyeball on the mends, I poo-pooed my eye doctor’s years and years of education, experience and expertise and stuffed my contacts back in my eyes so that I could get some ride time in. I’m sure glad I did, because fall has started to get its freak on.
For some reason I kept thinking of the late, great, brain soothing painter Bob Ross during the ride. I’m not entirely sure why, I suppose all the burgeoning fall colors had me thinking of him consulting his color palette and spouting off white man afro-inspired words of artistic wisdom.
Because I am a goof, with the mental capacity of a 7th grader, I imagined he would use “alternate” color names such as “Frog Ball Green” and “Shitty Fall Fern Brown” as he dabbed his brush into the living canvas I was riding directly into.
When I saw the result of the photo above I couldn’t believe it, the contrast between the remaining green on the trees and the various shades of “Post Mexican Feast Puke Orange” and “Urinary Tract Yellow” of the leaves on the ground is so strong, it almost looks as if I Photoshopped it or something (I didn’t). Nice work Mr. Ross… sorry I soiled your legacy by thinking you would talk so sophomoric towards your palette and canvas.
Cue music…