___ Winter - Submit an Entry_ Painting Project_ In the Style of LS Lowry.jpg

The drippings of you flow life to the wooden carcasses of bones dry from the river of truth. Lifeless they form a bond of inequity from one soul to another.. Playing in the winds of time the play is fortuitous, continually thrawling through plastic enamel.. Neither is real. The drippings of you bare life to dry bones, suddenly they sparkle. Excited they dance again through the wormhole, they’ve become once more. Truthfulness a thirsty drink.. Alight ones soul, refreshing like the spring.



Enchanted Forest_ Adding Fog _ Mist

The energy vortex consuming me from sorts, earth, sea, woods the crispin under my feet as I swift and wade through the masculine trees of old. A tale or two can be told from the bold ground from which they peered. The wood sent and smell of honeysuckle pierces my nose and the woodpeckers hard to work. High above peering through sky the sunset yet to come. Crispin I walk as the crunch stings my toes a baiting what goes next. Swirling through breeze as it swishes past softly and warm caressing my cheek with knowing. Happy to dwell and sing in these strewn up places away from mankind and all its traffic. For once we’re one with time alone, natures call, I respond. My beloved how great thou art in will.



Rain, Rain…_ maybe don’t go away_.jpg

Bellowing from mountain tops the grace of that is bellowing whooshing in the whisk of air. Flowing gracefully, dancing to whims of others. Striding, riding their other nuances from afar as the whisper they chime takes bate to manifest. Somewhere, somewhere oh somewhere or other a response awaits those whimsical chimes. A child plays in a field unwittingly unaware of the strides of time. Moments stand still based in impermanence yet rolling into another.. How can it be..