All these things I actually made. But what I see in the foreground is made up of millions upon millions of smaller, simpler things I didn’t make. Those things have more to do with the sky than the clouds or the snow. I’ll try to explain: The sky is not blue. The water is not red. The clouds aren’t white. The grass is not black.

I think the clouds were made of mountains. There were mountains made of mountains. And there was snow at the top of those mountains. It wasn’t even snow, because I think snow would melt. So I think the mountains were made of stone. And then the clouds were made of clouds, and as I was standing on top of the mountain I was sure, I could see clouds below me. And so I thought, there it is. The clouds were made of things I didn’t make. And they were made out of things that really didn’t matter. Like snow.

The point is, things in the sky don’t even have names to describe them. They lack characteristics. The words are irrelevant because the sky is blue and the sky is green and the sky is yellow all at once. The sky is not green. The sky is not yellow. The sky is red.