You’re an Asshole but I like You

Pulled by Nacreous

Seed Throwing Joy Screaming Momentum

We are out of time. So it is.. Such unharnessed power.. There are no gold eggs Inside the bloody goose. But now it is too late. Love has dissolved over its thin line... Breathe with the Tides. Currents reverse and winds change... all the time. ...So maybe I will tickle you next time you swing low, near me, Sweet Chariot. I could gobble you up, I love you so much. We can't stop the freight, The past, The momentum. But we can fall into a pile of singing, giggles and pink bruises. And be happy.

Being Crushed and Growing

The Soul Tiller, The freshness maker Has come. It was here.   Terror and Destruction are Good for growing onions.   Now I spend  20 years  To finally know: That is over.   But... Might it be true? Might we not Choose to delve... The “buried” couch is a reference to Robert Smithson’s Partially Buried Woodshed within the context of childhood struggles. In Smithson’s work, he buried a woodshed just until the center beam cracked – the significance of which spoke to me about how life gives us only as much adversity as we need to crack open. ------------------------------------------------------------- Onions serve as a term for the way layers of psychological complexities form around traumatic experiences, snowballing over new events and feelings adding to the pile that must be unraveled or “peeled” for understanding and healing.       To reach down inside,  Without first  Having our structural  Integrity  Cracked?    The straw, The grain, the difficulty and pain. Draws from us  The golder,  The fodder,  The better,  The water.      

Summer Reap Horn

Battle Cries Thought on the surface has gone deep Tuning. Creation’s instrument. Sometimes only At night… There is a hum… and a buzz? A crackling sound… Water when God wills it Time, time, time time. Pick out your hats Shop for your ideals. Your own Warrior call Is all that can Wake you. active and resonating you’ll be so glad You put the pieces together. Here it is. Watch in awe as it Pops, Bursts And crashes! Active and resonating! After you’ve killed your 45 minatour, Scream out, Covered with blood, Cry! Active. And resonating – You exist! You are victorious!

Purge, Paddle, Purge…

Within the embers cool petals sleep Fresh pasture springs under cascading tears and soak the block, the rock that is old.. …insurgents are in place, so what are you waiting for?

Momentary Lights

Each piece of my art reflects a discrete part of a system of thought and its transformation. Momentary Lights depicts everyday life within an imagined landscape, pulsing with trigger points, riddled with equations of cause and effect, delighting in the mystery and comedy of growth. 

Just Having Faith and Watermelon

They say "Have faith!"So I will have some.And I'll have some watermelon as well.Wonderful things are in the works,I know it.Things are bubbling,Life is thundering,Towards night,And new day.Time is my friend,Never have I been sad to leave an age,The older I am the more perspective,The less I hurt.The more healed the wounds.Soon I will plug it in, see our creation.Bright sky - some day soon.But for now, faith......and watermelon.  

Hot Tea and a Fresh Roll

The steamOf Subconscious, Rising slowly, untied,..opens envelopesshockingly,Knotted and tied. We need our worst fears...To happen to us,Well, because it kills us,And it ah wake-ens us.While it may seem, we don't know the unseen,We can feel it, and scream it,And hurl it into being.

Constructing a Chimera

I glimpsed the moon through my chaotic mind...There was not enough space insideTo feel more than what is already stored up,Waiting...To be felt.My rooms were stacked with boxes, lined with dust,Soot and salt from a thousand sea floods and house fires.Misfiring adrenals.So I went back to sitting,To listening, feeling..And sent up a prayer to the land of clean and empty.. Where I am starting inFresh pink rooms, aranging furnitureOn a sweet smelling summer’s night.