Artwork created with a mix of watercolor, charcoal, pastel, powdered pigments and ink
2000-2013
epiphany
something different from what we believe ourselves to be
delicate migration
these with a thousand small intentions
an attempt to convey
silent for a time
a mindful installation
peace in place of certainty
not swiftly as I rose before
the fate of a nation
all that it is to remember
with regard to the supposed primary qualities of extension and solidity
with an air of excitement and mystery
the vast structure of recollection
an ever dimming course
the loved ones left behind
tranquil restoration
sometimes more real
future golden remains
in thought as life
loyally crusading for a version of nonexistence
set to light the ground
given the chance
time enough at last
nightmare
separation is an illusion
stray thought conductor
only at nightfall
given to pause
you will still be here tomorrow, but your dreams may not
after winds long contrary
all that transpires within
the novelty of exile
Wendell smiled right up until the end
the dark world without
the monuments of an unaging intellect
it was so and always will be
they stood transfixed, as the newly fallen snow gave way to a much needed change of heart
an understanding of illusion
of transformation and uncertainty
the brilliant hush of conclusion
if ever there was one
far folded mists
tender regard
there were a great many things he could not remember
in the wake of possession
a gentle notion
after the age of invention
many standing mysteries
only in memory
in admiration of a waking universe
Melvin
the fading archive
an unreliable witness to existence
nostalgia
taken for wonders
if you listen very carefully, you can hear the quiet sound of a better world
the fall of an awakening
and all our departures have lighted dreams
flight of the recently departed
newfound wisdom in unexpected places
unwilling to shine
lonely damage
a dim sense of beauty
vaguely beloved shadow
amongst infinite spaces
unable to move, Harold resigned to watching life unfold before him
let me tell you a story
the ever silent spaces
one sees clearly only with the heart
what remains of these fallen days
mysterious species conservation
Alfred faced an increasingly complex world
greeting the atmosphere
Nakata
across the field
evening departure
away from the order of days
the end of the golden world inside
in search of a view
trailing the funeral of some lofty vision
building oceans over vacant fields
spider and I
forgetting the sky
who will they believe?
former lives rain down
life through bombardment