Fat~bellied, shirtless men, turn, suckling~pig red, as the sun beats them.
I work; and,
I possess a strange notion that my undirected anger becomes me.
This is the place where no one goes.
The place, sans verb, proper-well hidden.
I paint.
The edges, sans verb, imperfect.
Impeccable Impatience.
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Author: writtencasey
I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer.
With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills.
I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here.
Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.
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WrittenCasey 