late summer haiku
poppy seeds scatter to soil
illusions shattered
dead rose petals fall softly
poppy seeds scatter to soil
illusions shattered
dead rose petals fall softly
“It’s the every day moments of grace and despair, joy and sorrow that propel us towards our destiny. Life doesn’t have to be epic to have meaning and neither do stories. I prefer art that makes us ask deeper questions about ourselves or, at the very least, shows how fucking gorgeous and brave we are…
Recently, I spent several hours alone at The Frye Art Museum drinking in the “Moment Magnitude” exhibit. I wrote pages in my journal. Random things I overheard people saying, snippets from the art descriptions or the videos and my own feelings and thoughts that arose. I also took pictures of things strangers had posted in…
Something I ran across in a journal that I wrote several months ago when I was really struggling with judgment: “I’m pretty sure the world will never be healed by preaching and condemnation. It is by living an inspired life that I can most effectively impact that world around me.” Peace Pilgrim said, “When you…
cause and effect you drag your nails along my flesh delighting in my response cause and effect you find all my buttons and press them expressing joy at each sigh cause and effect you pull me tight in morning light luxuriating in my scent and softness cause and effect you telling me I make love…
I think this little entry was one of all-time favorite mini-collages. Art-making makes me happy.
Lover, paint me with your desire! Write your poetry on my flesh– with your teeth. Lover, splash with me in the puddles of life! Explore the landscape of my earth– with your tongue. Lover, play with me with deviant innocence! Write your opus with whispers of song– to my heart. Lover, come to me now…