I turn my eyes to the impossible: •
the sky in the last minutes of the day Continue reading →
run all the pieces under the needle •
until all small pieces are one big piece •
of fabric again and so beautiful. Continue reading →
Later you’ll put ice in a glass and then •
measure gin, fill with tonic, squeeze a lime. •
Sit down and watch an old M*A*S*H show and let… Continue reading →
Onward and upwards for the last twelve days of April! Keep writing everyone. Continue reading →
there should be a name •
for groups of wand’ring haiku •
travelling all as one. Continue reading →
Art is our memory of love. The most an artist can do through their work is say, let me show you what I have seen, what I have loved, and perhaps you will see it and love it too.
