This painting seems to be ending.So I think I'd better get started on another. Maybe this time the cycloptic arboropods are in the hey day of the culture. Flying genetically altered box kites over a pasture with those ancient god heads presiding over the scene. Or maybe the god heads are holding the kite strings in their teeth, while the arboropod frolic. Frolic, no not frolic; that is one the of wishy washyiest words there is. Could be the arboropods are in a trance, or dancing, or in a trance dance at a prophetic gathering - conjuring up visions of a happy future. Ha! how wrong they are.
