Artwork
Yesterday’s Debris
Cease with the replaying of stale re-run memories! No need to channel surf for nondescript scenes of regurgitated emotion. Disseminated Guilt lingers far long after the days of superficial cleansing/removal. We need to dispose of the undisputed heaviness of culminated stench once it begins to corrode the current mind’s interest and flowering affairs of the heart. All too often, we allow unnecessary residue of remorse to interfere and impose itself, needlessly. Habitual punitive self-lashings deprive fresh tender sprouts of attraction from germinating. Subconscious ‘blunders of the tongue’ mingle with words of otherwise intended new venue conversation . Remorse is as useless as a wet match. Regret is indeed the prayer of fools!
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Artwork
My First Love
We are sensually alive! We are an active participant in the life we adhere to. The divine force breathes through us as a means of finite existence. We are definitively tied to the trees that supply our oxygen. We are the mechanism through which divinity expresses creation in fullness. Carbon monoxide flows from us as the receptacle of infinite circular exchange. We are continuously penetrated by and through the sublime ether. “Sexuality is the highest form of spirituality available to mankind.” Breathe deeply…
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Artwork
Caught In a Nightmare
When we do not face the emotional demons in our everyday lives, they show up in disguised forms in our dreams. When we refuse to move on when it’s time to let go, we are paralyzed by night terrors. Never is there a time when life abruptly snatches our world out from underneath us without subtle warnings all along the way. Blatant omens, signs, symbols reveal pertinent ‘neon messages’. The whirlwind passes; don’t resist the transformation.
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Artwork
Irresolute Arousal
Our impending passion flickers and dwindles in the midst of our weak justifications. We begin throbbing and pulsating vigorously and then, apologetically, we abort. Before we finish our infused attempt, we have talked ourselves out of the underlying motivation as if it was a conjured up fantasy to lure us from some more productive venture. Apologetically, we make all sort of acceptable and palatable excuses to sooth our vexation, resolved that we can be tamed and be brought under submission. Such pitiful liars we are!
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