Thursday, October 2, 2014


Visual embers as a product of theoretical embers - embers of change.  I assume that you are assuming I was in love, it ended, it hurt, and I grew.  Well, I'm sure it was a part of it.  I love to fall in love - with anything; people, places, music, food, books, weather, get my drift.  Sometimes I get to keep loving those things, and sometimes I don't.  Circumstantially ending due to a varying list of things that just happen.  Just as that love happened.  Two things come together grow by what the other gave them, and the story goes on in so many ways.  In this page's story, the union stopped, and the embers of those moments float their little energies into the sky.  Love has no end, just a resting place.  (Go listen to White Buffalo, The Getaway if you like that last sentence).  I look at the blue lines in this and wonder what they were/are to me.  I think Highway.  I think a vein where our life flows through us.  I think the cool bits that sooth the tender fiery bits from a bit of love burn.  The rest of all that open space is the quietness.  Think what you may in the quiet.  Think nothing.  Remember.  Wish you could forget (or remember).  Cry if you must.  Laugh.  Feel your pulse raise then calm.  And with all the hope in my heart, I wish for us to appreciate our tenderness and those moments.  When my Dad saw the beginning of this (with just the 'heart' coming apart) his face changed and he gave me a hug.  I laughed and said, "Dad, I'm fine.  It's not what you think."  Or was it...?  

11" x 14"

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