A square of weather and meditation. As a child I never ever painted on a square surface. I have grown to appreciate the format in my later days. Square is so void as to feel extra blank. Now I find myself enjoying the possibilities.
Drawn to Dark, you antiflame. Vibrations will not stop, still it turns. Threaded and lost in the eddy of fear. My bleeding gums shine bright.
My Kind of Weirdo
Time relentlessly washing over, eroding and churning. I find myself surprisingly old, solitary and drifting into eccentricity. Each morning I wonder, “what kind of weirdo are you today?” Time reveals my charming weirdo ways.