Watercolor: a continuation

What better to do with an abundance of embroidery hoops

than introduce them to a previous exploration? 

2 polarities: Chaos, meet Structure.
 

How do you do?

[String wants in] 

Planes of an apple tree: a start

I fancied an apple tree, in another dimension [between here and there]

let the medium mixing begin . . .

I drew a bit of all of us in him

the man on the train
regarding no thing in particular
but with a melancholy air

and noticing he couldn't see me — or didn't
i sketched him

beneath a heavy brow, which he couldn't fully know
some light.



we bid adieu

Watercolor: soaking the senses

playing with paint in a lazy and dangerous setting: my bed 



*coloring the canvas beneath the canvas: temptation noted.

Limed: fermented, not forgotten

I had a couple of aesthetic experiences with limes recently,

the first having spent a good amount of time in a fridge, the second in Sangria.

below, in their distinct graces . . .

 

S P A C E : a typeface

 

The fullest words are woven with silence . . . 

What makes a letter? 

The height, breadth of strokes?
Or the area that surrounds it?

Naturally, they need one another. 

The Nothing that hugs every vulnerable edge of the Something, giving it form. 

Yet how often are we mindful of that space . . . of silence?

Our world brims with things. Unless we’re cognizant of the pause 

between the stuff

we’re left with something not worth reading—illegible chatter

We need space to break up the monotony of form.

And what if we could learn to focus on that space?
 

How would our perception of the world change?

What would we find?