The thought of disposing the body of your child, or a loved one that is not your child. Is a process that cleaves you right down the middle of your being. On one hand, you just do not want to do it. The last visage of their face, their smile, the way their eyes flashed … More Signs
small child big bed lost in a room lost in her head The gray of her days by a rectangle window gave slight to light and tossed the lines haphazard and tangled. There came a knocking a pounding thrice times in the days shook the frame of her mind until crazy with fright! surrender surrender … More Bang
I have been away, painting has called me. Ideas pulling my thoughts down a path of paintbrushes and wooden canvases. My voice becomes silent as my words become color. Good times.
INTO THIS DEEP 