” A Picture Tells “

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They say a picture tells a thousand words.
I am not always convinced that’s true.
Some pictures tell a tale of 693 pages like a novel of classic literature.
Some pictures say nothing at all.
However the art of words does possess its own charismatic allure.

WELCOME to my story, a book if you will of interrelated
blogs displaying views of isolated images of paintings, wood sculpture and a diverse grouping of words.
I call it expression, free verse poetry, but its all art, and it tells a story in book form.

Please feel free to click on HOME and Scroll to experience visual images and verse of diverse presentation. An exhibition of sorts in a blogged book/
HIT HOME SCROLL thank you

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” Summer’s Promise “

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A steamy mist appears, floating like a gentle fog rising from the cooled surface of a path to anywhere.

Like mystic fog on black top now darkened by the refreshing afternoon shower.

Green leaf gently whispers in the cool of moistures air

A steamy street cooled by summers glistening raindrops evaporating on the boulevard.

A path to anywhere in search of summer’s promise.

Ice cubes coming out of the freezer steam as they are enclosed by the warmth of summer’s air.

A glass half full sweating with moisture, the condensation anticipation of summer’s promise.

A front porch view of the world your glass full of summer’s promise.
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On ART:

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On ART:

Art is a complicated collection of thoughts, moods, expressions and energy, or not.
Art is always or should be combined with skill, academics, passion and lust.
Art is hot like the flames that burn inside of us.
Art is the energy that keeps us going.
Art is an enigma, but no mystery.
Art is danger and rage.
Art is beauty and grace.
Art is love and hate.
Art gives life and takes life.
Art is the essence of life.

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its funny this didn’t startout to be a blog site about art?

Well enjoy the words written the stories told the poetic verses and the images of art…..
Click on HoME and scroll 201 different blogs

” Textures in the Wind ” acrylic on wood

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You feel a breeze upon your skin.
You feel cool smooth glass or sharp jagged edge.
You feel rough gritty, abrasive concrete uncomfortable to skin.
You feel the heat as it warms your soul or burns your skin.
You feel the material of life as you wear it outside and in.
You feel tears of life as you weep from the joy and pain from beginning to end.
Textures in the wind,,,~~~~~~ ~~~ ~~~~~~~

“Feel Me”

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Hissing, like a caged animal cornered.
I want to make you share my pain.
Hissing, I want to make you feel the same.
I want to make you ache the same.
I want to share my world in vain.
Hissing, I want to hear you beg my name.
Have I caused you enough pain?
Hissing, I want to hear you come my name.
There is no shame only the shared game of pain.
Hissing, one more time in vain.
Scream my name,,,,How great the pain!