in a search that brought me here upon a helm of transformation to cleanse my thoughts of introspection and focus on people’s healing
the task is naught i often fear then hope arrives upon the clouds to shelter us from sudden doom and resume our fervent cry in hopes the heavens hear the daily drumbeat we supply
All sorts of lovely June 3, 2022
Last night i took the time to acknowledge how grateful i am for all this beauty surrounding my senses. Peace resides here. And within my body.
There will always be turmoil in the world. We must search for the presence of the Creator in whatever place we call home.
darkness pervades air sheltering prayer covers face one more night to bare
The greatest hazard of all, losing one’s self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all. No other loss can occur so quietly; any other loss – an arm, a leg, five dollars, a wife, etc. – is sure to be noticed. —Søren Kierkegaard
Have you noticed yourself slipping into the quiet of thought? What can you do to keep yourself afloat? Who answers your call when you shout?
The tide heading towards the unknown carries me out to sea.
Once monthly i feel an urge to connect with others. And explore the foolish thoughts dancing in my head. Picking up rocks is a favorite past time and i miss this place dearly. I miss you too.
Its not quite May. So technically i am rushing this posting. But conventional wisdom alludes me. Ive been jumping off the railroad tracks the past six months. And diving into drained ponds. With summer months approaching, im praying for rain to refill these dry bones.
How else do i explain my temporary insanity? Other than my thoughts overflow into print. And then i run with them, as a flirt to power.
Decipher 2022
I study human behavior as a hobby. I honestly believe we all strive for attention. What is my excuse? We would all be far better off climbing back into our suitcases and traveling on to a promised land.
Am I beginning to make sense? Finally? I took an Advil Pm 30 minutes ago. And instead of falling asleep, my mind started racing towards the finish line. “Don’t die yet? The best is yet to come!” Oh, how i dearly want to believe.
So i write. A love letter. A flirtatious epic to myself. With all the obvious jargon of the day. And i secretly stash it into a back pocket, hoping someone would come along and steal all the selfish bull crap ive stored. The letter now written, better explained as love hoarded for myself.
Which brings me to my favorite life artist, Van Gogh. He was not part of polite society. Yet he loved the world more than those who bothered to say “Pardon me.” to fellow men waiting in line for their stab at being known. Ironic that the most evasive was the winner.
Aesop understood human behavior far better than i ever will. And i beg to differ with him as well. I dont really want to know much. Just warming myself by the fire and reading the smoke signals left to inform me, i am still alive.
If you make sense of this, you are far smarter than me. Please explain to me how you know!
Into the Abyss Acrylic on board. Circa 2020 or 2021?
Lay my heart down and weep what little time remains I give it all to you the gift of all beauty hidden from human eyes. You are only fed to eager souls.
I won’t be gone long. How can I keep myself from being amongst all this grandeur?
I did a little beach cleanup. I hiked miles. I painted. I wrote. Nothing here keeps me from living. Everything here pushes me to go further. The seals and loons. The cawing of crow friends. A shy heron perched as if wind was nonexistent.
The waves rush in with new gifts of sea glass. The waves recede into the greater good. The flow of sea amends all the broken pieces of life.
seasons: a poetic journey 