Eric Wallis Lilies and Iris painting

Eric Wallis Lilies and Iris paintingEric Wallis Her Own Time paintingEric Wallis Flowers Everywhere paintingEric Wallis Dressing in White painting
Hazard’s jaws locked in midchew, as if the seafoodshiny yellow slicker and a droopy yellow rain hat. He was as bright as a dandelion.The slicker had many inside pockets, deep and weatherproof.In his tall black rubber boots, two layers of socks kept his feet pleasantly warm.He yearned for thunder.He ached for lightning.Storms in southern California, usually lacking crash and flash, were too quiet for his taste.He liked the wind, however. Hissing, hooting, a champion of disorder, it lent a sting to the rain and promised chaos.Ficus and pine trees shivered, shuddered. Palm fronds clicked and clattered.Stripped leaves whirled in ragged green conjurations, short-lived demons that blew down into gutters.Eventually, clogging drain grills, the tagine had hardened like a dental mold.“Ten foreskins from grown men, not infants,” Ethan amplified.After chewing mechanically, not with his former relish, and after swallowing with a grimace, Hazard said, “Ouch. How many grown men get themselves circumcised?”“They’re not standing in line for it,” Ethan agreed.