But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.
Romeo and Juliet
Obviously the pale moon is somewhere off stage right.
Hanging out with a sore throat today. My immune system seems to have taken a powder this year. But I guess it gives me a chance to play with paint shop features I usually ignore. Head on over to Illustration Friday to see how others interpreted pale.