One once written wonder long lostspoke lightly of thee and thy grace:a tickling trickle drowning in a sea of waves.Too delicate at even a whisper or hum,to think the thought so fullyflows too strong to find its way.The depth of cause and its effect,whose root eludes the power of truth,isn't easily ignored.This ethereal weight is found wanting,but is enough to be the difference betweenreflection and reality.The oppressive urge of right or wrongsurfaces a muddy haze.Cloud cover reason and rain conviction,moving matter and minds.Open the world to your vision and you will find the way.
The fell of my fingers falls short.I want to cut the paper with my pen.I wish it would bleed and contribute something to the conversation.
(Woodblock carving printed with acrylic, pen)
Sharing should be easyimpulses collide in brawling clashes with barriersfelled by guarded restraint and ugly colored cuesbreak me; I hate youlet it out; get it out, before I begin to identifycrush escapismflee motionlesslyparalyzed in a rote roar of scribbled screams
(Watercolor, pencil, charcoal)