the artist.

what luxurious avidity the creative soul ignites
fragmented palates
starchy cacophonous canvas
mocking me with its vulgar shades of nothingness!
pasty oils
the longing of a clicking shutter
meticulous ink fearing the blemish
haunting me
moonlight sonata
the rustling of the winds
unfinished prose
tip of my tongue
the senses waiting to be united
optical precision
I'm waiting to be drowned
in the infinite abyss
of art

Self in B&W.

Tangled. (self portrait)

the scientist.

old church.

In Memory of my beautiful Grandmother.

Birds at dawn.

Angels in negative.

do androids dream of humans?

The Photographer.

love is real

the typewriter

statuesque

the severed head...

Whistling in the wind

Today,

I stood in a breeze

Slightly fragrant

With gardenias

And watched trees,

Tall oaks

All wizened with age

March steadily

Ahead of summer shadows.

Daffodils trumpeted

Yellow songs

While Butterflies

Fluttered in a crimson waltz

And the sparrows

Flew south,

Whistling in the wind

As they went.