In the studio

All the poetic words and thoughts that were never recorded bring me up to this moment where I sit.
The words of left have left just like the apatite 
She waits until I'm watching before she begins to eat.
since it largely remains parked out front she has become more calm sleeping under the table in the studio that I dreamed of. 
  the bike with the continually deflating tire often remains at the foundry overnight.
I will arrive home unexpected, and then immediately be greeted because she waits by the window just like I did waiting all day for my dad to come home.
We're all rushing to be the king of the hill. looking around and seeing the numbers, 
we sit in the dust and draw instead.
I go outside to see your bike on its side and further I see the gate still open and so I decided to retrieve the recycle bucket and once I get to the front of the house I see that the front door is open with the lights on inside so all the bugs can go in.

Relationships

I'm curious about what draws people to each other.  I would like to think that written in the empty space in our universe and the emptiness between the atoms in our cells,  is what binds us together.  If we all leave this world alone and return to the space that we originally started from,  then what is that space that we occupy with other people? Is it anything other than a random chance collision between two miniscule objects in a fraction of time.  The continual progression and improvement between anything is spectacularly amazing.  The fact that these relationships continue and progress instead of dissolving into nothing is beyond what I could believe from natural observations.  It makes much more confident that there is something greater than what we can conceive that is driving us forward to something greater than the tiny atoms that make up our existence.

Life after a rose

After spending some time of focused attention on drawing something it is very hard to destroy it.  While it's not as devastating as destroying a part of yourself to create something,  there is still a sense of loss in destroying the flower that was the inspiration for the drawing in the first place.  In destroying the flower it is able to be transformed into something that can last longer than its original form.  The story of destroying the rose has taught me a lot about the legacy that each of us leaves once we are gone. 
In appreciation of summer and the beauty that surrounds me,  I fee it's necessary to spend a few moments barefoot in the new grass that is growing as fast as it can.  It reminds you of you own frailty and the general fleeting nature of everything in nature.