I mourn for the way your favorite color used to be a question worthy of thought, now a bread crumb lost along the way of living. –I don’t know, blue?
There is a ghost of who I used to be who lays her head on the underside of my pillow and whispers wicked lies behind my eyes… Read more “Wicked Lies”
These walls are high but poorly built. The right brick crumbling sends it tumbling.
backseat brain driver thought threads bunch and untangle let’s see where this goes Powered down my brain and drew another map of its contents. What do you… Read more “Bound together: Brain Map #3”
I took out my pen and began drawing the other day: stressed out, overworked, 12 hours into a 24-hour shift with not enough windows and too many… Read more “Brain Map #2: Plant me in the garden”
Does anyone else struggle to title their work? I sure do! This lady first lived as a sketch in my notebook before I gifted her a garden… Read more “Bloom”
I dipped my feet into the daunting process of learning to paint water! What a challenge to communicate vastness in a small space. I love the colorful… Read more “Colored Waves”
You dropped out of a tree into my path, a shiny acorn, and I, not yet a sapling. How could I have known then how our branches were destined to grow together?
like the howling ache of the last bite, yearning, your pillow–cold– my fingers sweep for crumbs of you between my sheets.
My favorite part of this recently-finished painting is difficult to detect on camera. Look closely with the right angles and in the right light and you’ll find… Read more “First Snowfall”