Construction paper world.

My inspiration arrives suddenly and from a memory that could have easily been abandoned because I was so consumed. So many exceptional moments could have been lost while I spent time in orbit.

Who would I be without that lost reality…and your face, your words, and your touch?

You sing karaoke
without knowing
the words.
Can’t read,
but can kill it
in a verse.
That sweet dance,
a remembrance.

With that in mind, I continue...

I am fascinated with the everyday condition. I watch and listen and I am prompted to return the favor with ink and fiber. I am captivated by the remote.

I am drawn to those who misguidedly assume they have little to offer. I admire those with the biggest hearts, and the quietest egos. And the vibrant, passionate, strong willed and self assured also encourage my craft.

The dark and pensive, the quiet and plotting, the spirited and confined, the naïve and unafraid…any combination a profit, all notions sublime.

The gravity of a book, a wise old woman, a tale told in three verses and a chorus repeated twice, the advice of those who know infinitely so much more, and the unexpected bit of hope that arrives when you say I love you.

p.s. paint your walls a deviceful shade of change and then you will know why.