I could have painted these pages with our picturesque potential Quivering with each written word as if it were a brushstroke ever so essential Carefully crafting every artistically assembled prose without a single exhale Sweat would have trickled down my brow as I ensured every meticulous detail Painstakingly placing words on parchment as if it were a canvas Sentimentally sketching each and every raw element of our souls,...

Snow danced and swirled, driven across the lake by brisk winds. Jenn looked out her cabin’s window and sighed. She put more wood on the fire. The cabin was small enough that a wood stove was sufficient for heat. Sitting at a table by the window, Jenn leafed through her sketchbook. It was filled with drawings of snowflakes. Jenn had not yet figured out what she was trying to capture in these drawings. She just kept observi...

The canvas was blank. Like a brilliant shining light in his mind, it was blank. Piercing and constant it stared at him, begging to be transformed. Like so many times before, beauty and vibrant color longed to be placed. It cried out to him, but he was empty. Reports of success and victory streamed in, yet it was all empty. Day after day the generals talked of greatness and victory. Day after day the canvas remained blank....

I am slumped in a chair, staring at my newest painting. For over twenty-four hours I have been awake, painting in a near-trance for more than half that time. The painting portrays a scene not far from my studio, a shallow bay on Lake Madeline. A woman emerges naked from the water. An overturned canoe floats nearby. The woman’s name is Lily. Memories flood in. ***** Thunder rumbled in the distance. I glanced towards the so...

Paris … ah Paris … he had been in love with the city since that magical day in April fifty five years before when he had stepped off the train at the Gare du Nord and walked out of the station into the bustle of the busy streets of the capital. He was a country born and had lived all his life on his father’s farm and his mother had decided that now he was fifteen it was time he saw something of the wider world. He was a q...

This is part of a story I wrote for the writing group.  I was left the unenviable task of saying what happened to Alex when she was 15 years old,  what had happened to the young innocent girl that day ten years ago. I hope you enjoy it; I will be incorporating this into a larger story at some point.  I lay down on my sofa, my Analyst pulled up a chair and started making notes. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.  As...

That look she casts over her naked shoulder,the long expanse of smooth alabaster skin.The knowing painter's eye examines ever deeper,while I hardly would know where to begin.The elongated supple spine and velvet skininvite the gentle touch of ling'ring fingertips.And yet her gaze denies the hitheringand holds voyeurs at bay with pouting lips. What calculus did Ingres maketo paint the brimming passion chilled,the smothered...

I came so far for Beauty And she took me down many roads Confident and Proud, up on the high;Broken and Humbled, down in the low I traveled so far for Beauty, Found myself a long way from home Digging graves in the moonlight--I buried my heart alone I sacrificed for her, my BeautyI held Isaac to the altarHer praise I thought she'd give meKnife in hand, I did not falter.Although, pleasure came from BeautyHer laurels I was...

Paint my lips by kissing meSculpt me in your armsThis room shall be our studioWhere we create our art Too fluid to be capturedAnd set within a frameToo sacred to be notedOr garner any fame Yet lasting and indelibleThroughout both our livesEach of us a masterpieceIn the other’s eyes.

An image captured,Droplets enraptured,Within a crystal glimmer. Refracted lights shimmer,Holding for just a moment,Much more than a quotient. Creatures encapsulated,Not moving nor animated,Held frozen cryogenically. Invisible to a wandering eye,From a picture one can spy,The illustrations drawn within. Water drops freezing skin on skin,Prisoners inside an icicle's confine,Many illuminations brightly shine. Is it only me?...

I wonder then ifthat is whyI chain youupand steal youreyes?I really need allthat youare,become for mea rich bazaar.Give me yourlungsto help mebreathe,I’ll prise them outwith gentleease.Relinquish that:a Romannoseand howabout a pair ofthose:kidneys are they?Nicely done!Your legs as well,now you won’trun.I’ll have yourearsto help mehear,I’ll take yourtongue also, nofear!I’m sure it will assist me whenI need to share thetast...

Diaspora  She asks me if I know what this means  Like the seeds of a dandelion  Blown by the harsh winds of intention versus expectation  I am a black woman and the seed  Is the marrow of my spine  The wind has caught in the thickness of my hair  Lifting me to this place among pale faces Liminal Being  She asks me if I know what this means  When I catch the sea at high tide  I will drift to my people in familiar waters  T...

Striated banding brews patch work stripes; not a devil's work of art kissing heavens hues, but brush strokes and swipes; an appealing palette a la carte. Pinks, reds, greys and blues; another new day strikes, spawning a fresh start painted by my muse, removing darkened spikes. Her canvas always warms my heart.

It's winter and the winds do blowBut we are safe inside you know. My metal art upon the wallIs rattling and about to fall. With special hooks I make it tightSo it will stay a happy sight. It's hammered in a gleeful styleTo give arriving guests a smile. Like many pieces round our placeIt makes our home a pleasant space. We've gathered art from distant partsEnriching both our lives and hearts. Along with books that line our...

If I could paint, each day I’d be at my easel painting what I think I see across the pond, or if I could carve, each day I’d peel away the wood and find the loon, or heron or duckling and try to get the wing just right, or if I played the violin, or flute, or mandolin I’d make up music to say what words can’t say, and play for anyone out there who will listen. So, every day I search for words that paint and carve and sing...