Another Late Night

It's another late night at my graveyard shift job. This is where I usually get to blogging my good stuff. So here I am.

But what to blog about? Should I blog about the Utah Coalition Against Pornography Conference I attended today? About how any kind of social change in that arena has to take place through the federal government, and about how that frustrates me, and discourages me about the lack of backbone and moral fiber in our legal systems and society?

Or should I blog about the police officer who refused to shoot a man in Ohio, who he would have been completely justified in shooting - as the man was attempting a suicide-by-cop? Should I blog about how I get frustrated with all the biased media hooks, how they report the news that sells, rather than the news that matters?

Or should I blog about the "Hookers for Hillary" post Nathan found, which tells of a group of hookers in Nevada willing to offer some "additional services" for you if you'll vote for Hillary Clinton? (Starting to wonder if voting should be a right...)

But you know what? No. I don't want to talk about these things. These things are good pieces, but not tonight.

Tonight I want to talk about the painting that hangs over my desk, in my office, at work.

I've never really had a desk, or an office before. Back during one of my internships, I had a tiny table by the window, which barely had room for my knees to fit underneath, with a binder and a laptop on top. At the hospital, there were three of us crammed in a broom closet - hardly a private "office."

Now that I work at a care center, however... I have an office! I have two file cabinets and a massive wooden "power" desk. I have room for a chair, for my mini fridge, for a stack of my favorite psychology books. I have SO MUCH SPACE, it's remarkable! I have a diploma on the wall, two calendars, and two paintings.

But this one... This one's my favorite thing...

This hangs directly over my head, every day. Some beautiful... place... with two geese... I love it.

I've looked at those geese, the fenced balcony to the left, and wondered what inspired this artist to paint such a fantastic piece. Was he walking, one day, admiring God's winged creations, and thought, "Why yes. I should put those in a brown-toned Italian Villa."

Inspiring. Truly inspiring.

The blues, the browns, the flirtatious hints of red. You awe me, painter. You awe me. The beauty of this masterpiece is truly to be found in it's simplicity.

So let's be honest, that's really all I have to say about that.