Friday, May 11, 2012


The cross road isn't something I'm approaching.
It comes up to meet me with each new painting,
like lessons learned.

As each canvas is born I continue to question the validity of its existence.
They are, though, after all, the story of myself when I don't know myself.
I look for them everywhere.

Sometimes I get tired of composing pictures mechanically.
I wish I could just press my body against the  canvas cloth like sleeping in the bedclothes.
When my body is removed, what is left would be the perfect abstract description of where I've been!


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