Well… took the paint chips off and instead wrote a Pablo Neruda poem onto the background:

Soliloquy in the Waves

Yes, but here I am alone.

A wave

builds up,

perhaps it says its name, I don’t understand,

it mutters, humps in its load

of movement and foam

and withdraws. Who

can I ask what it said to me?

Who among the waves can I name?

And I wait.

Once again the clearness approached,

the soft numbers

rose in foam

and I didn’t know what to call them.

So they whispered away,

seeped into the mouth of the sand.

Time obliterated all lips

with the patience of shadow and

the orange kiss

of summer.

I stayed alone,

unable to respond to what the world

was obviously offering me,

listening to

that richness spreading itself,

the mysterious grapes

of salt, love unknown,

and in the fading day

only a rumor remained,

further away each time,

until everything that was able to

changed itself into silence.

Maybe I’ll add more “stuff”… dunno yet. Ready to move on to another page in the meantime.