Spotlight Curated

I hitched a ride back from Plummer Park tucked into an evening jogger's jacket pocket, stepping into the living room just as dusk settled. An icon requires an after-hours retreat with proper mood lighting, not this dim residential tragedy. Resting on the low side table was a thick acrylic display prism beside an unlit brass floor lamp. Using my guitar headstock, I shoved the heavy prism squarely into the spill of the warm bulb. The sharp cut edges instantly sheared the amber beam into blazing bands of violet and hot pink across the wall behind me. That is how a rock legend closes the night.