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.

Prophesy # 2

You will always miss the connection you had. 
You will see it in the special food / beverages you shared
You will see it in the movies
You will hear it in the music selling you things as you walk around the store. 
You will continue to get subtle reminders of the essence that you have grown to love,  unique to only one thing
You will remember that you asked it to leave. 
You will remember and question how you could ever not be attracted to it. 
Your longing for the past will never cease.  You will continue to lie to yourself and others
You will not see any of yourself in this Prophesy
You will see all of yourself in this
Your temper will always be an issue. 
When you get angry,  you will try to hurt the ones around you. 
As you read this,  your anger will still be pounding in your head even though this piece has absolutely nothing to do with you. 

Tea for two

Where will my dreams lead me?
Cartoon kisses distract my hurting heart. 
2 pieces of clay made from one source,  one set of hands,  one burning fire,  and now set to the task of waiting to be set on a table. 

Packed away,  sleeping cups wait,
What awaits us when we sleep?

Dreaming of you

We sleep to remember the dreams that inspired our passion for life. 
The lines that draw a map of mountains to conquer and moments on pinnacles to share. 
Together are dreams wrapped each other into our souls that we share as one. 
The peace in reaching a summit of familiarity shared from a moment before we were born.
The beauty of sharing uncertainty certain in the surprises that make each day worth waking for. 

Exploring

Take my hand and trust the paths that lead us here. 
Hearing your panting,  It doesn't matter what I'm looking at,  holding your hand makes it the most interesting. 
We find and make our adventures in every area we walk together. 
As we quietly struggle to the destination I look past the dirt and sweat and see beautiful determination. 
One more corner,  one more bend in the path,  one more ridge,  up further and deeper in. 

When to stop

I think it's a wonderful moment when someone else helps decide that a picture is finished.  It's also interesting to see what they feel it is worth.  Often I feel that placing a monetary amount on an act of creative inspiration diminishes the product that this act inspired.  There are lots of words I could use to describe what was happening when I made these pieces, but now they have a new owner,  and what those owners decide to say about the pictures is more important than anything I could say

Dreaming

I love observing time.  Each dash and line is in it's own way a record of time. While there is often something of interest that initially catches my eye,  I feel like that works as a framework or skeleton that that time is measured or built upon. The best measurements are those that are could be measured in some way. Snowflakes,  leaves, any small object counting the seconds away of life.  I feel like I'm simply measuring the way I interact with my world.  Every heartbeat, hair that falls, or breath is simply a physical representation of the microscopic change that is our cells and mitochondria that is ticking away until this form that we inhabit transforms into something else.  Watching any entire short life of an animal start to finish, really makes you question your own mortality and what is really important in life.  Maybe the purpose of life is in the moments where we take naps with our dogs?

Three brothers

When 3 eggs and 3 sperm start out so similar, I almost wonder if there is really all that different in the end.  It's almost like light fractured through a prism that creates the different colors that we see.  It is all the same, but just a different perspective of the same idea.  I wonder if the whole population is a prism of some cosmic unifying force? I look at me and my brothers and and wonder at our differences.  It makes me think of quantum theories and parallel universes.  If every thought is capable of happening in some universe,  then maybe everything and everybody is just like a fractured beam of light from a unifying central point of commonality. 

Running with sesame at night

Topless and barefoot I move through the night like a shadow of a ghost of the people who circle the park lake.  My companion follows and inspires my feet forward. 

Names

There is a lot of power in names.  The bugs, flowers, and shapes in this image I do not know how to identify.  My attempt to capture a piece of there essence is similar in our attempt to label and categorize each other.  A swarm of insects are unique in the swarm that they occupy, unique in their individual biology,  and are unique in there constant state of change. 
As soon as we learn someone's name, we immediately begin looking for labels to identify and categorize them.  We then go about looking to explain our labels to others in an attempt to fortify and confirm their legitimacy. 
In reality are we anything more than a swarm of molecules and atoms gathering together in a specific pattern for a very short time?  Are we any greater or better than a swarm of insects?

Layers of importance

I really appreciate the opportunity to witness the way in which color changes over time.  It's a great reminder of the temporary nature of everything.  This moment is so precious and without witnessing loss it's so easy to forget how beautiful it is. In the moments where these images are being created, I'm amazed and thrilled by what emerges from the shapes that are created. 
As much as I originally was trying to keep myself removed from the work that I felt was coming through me,  I realized that is impossible.  In recognizing the personal mark that the work has left on me, I feel like I am admitting the unifying similarly between us all. 

Tools

I am drawn to the concept of constant creation.  It is an interesting feeling to be able to draw something that nobody else has or will probably ever draw.  I love being able to immediately draw what is in front of me, or whatever in this moment that catches my eye.  While I have forgotten what the initial moment was that caught my eye,  there is something about getting lost in the moments of creating that is equally beautiful.
Just as tools are useless without someone to use them,  so are drawings that are not able to connect with the viewer or the artist in the moment that they are occupying.  There is nothing more important than this moment and anything that brings us to a greater sense of awareness of this moment is priceless.