I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through

Friday, November 11, 2011

On the eleventh day of the eleventh month at the eleventh hour



One of the things I like about the day job is that I get to do cool things like this. Occasionally. This is one of a series of similar graphics intended for use on our large screen TVs around the company.

I share it here as a way to honor all my friends who have served. Thank you.

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