tiny

She was a tiny thing, shivering against the windowpane. She loved to watch the rain fall. She didn’t mind being small, in this world this was all it was. Rivers raced down the glass so thin while her hot breath fogged the view. She drew with careful precision, over and over, her name. The clock … More tiny

Color

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.