Cool cotton in August, striped seersucker puckered like nipples. Warm cashmere wool in the cold winter soft as my hair. My lips are still rubied by a pomegranate I ate as a child.

you took my idea to an entirely new level! I was in part inspired by Elizabeth Brewster’s “Where I Come From”, a poem I must’ve read when I was about 14, and randomly thought about a few days ago.

Thanks, George. Yes, like last years’s, they’re all original photos that have had to endure my Photoshop or GIMP learning enthusiasm.