Wonder and Horror

I don't remember whose photograph this is, but I like it.  It is "up my alley" as they say.  It looks to be an encaustic, but the jpeg is small and I can't really tell.  But why do I imagine it to be a photograph at all?  Now that I look at it, it surely isn't.  This is how I see when I photograph, I guess.

And I may again some day.

The image is hideous, of course, nightmarish.  Truly. . . I could make this photo.  I will try.

I slept better last night, though I do remember a disturbing dream.  It reminded me to quit drinking.  When you are dreaming about it. . . .

I read this morning that there is trouble here at home.  Apparently, there is trouble abroad as well.  I can't get a handle on who are the good guys and who are the bad.  And there seems to be no place to run and hide without tremendous amounts of money.  You can't just build a boat and set sail for Moorea any more.  I mean you can, but when you get there, beautiful natives will not swim out to greet you.  You probably won't have the money it takes to anchor in the harbor.

When I was young there was still a Loch Ness monster and a Yeti, too.  We watched the sky for aliens with hope and fear.

They killed them all off.  They replaced wonder with horror.

I'd rather watch "Harvey" than "The Shining."  Still, I have to say I like this image whatever it is.