Friends

 

Things I Still Must Do

Things I Still, must do:

#1. 

They have a tendency these days not to have any reason, take any specific color or shape. They just peer in at you when your on the john. 

18 x 24 

ink // acrylic// newsprint 

California Bird

18 in x 24 in 

ink // watercolor // cold press

35 mm

 

When I was a bird

You were the ones who loved my song

Many times you'd sing along

Enchanted by what you want to be

Caught me , trapped by your beliefs

Now I'm in the cage you made

Crushed beneath your selfish ways

No song to sing

My tears are a stir

The bars like knives your angry words

Some have need and some lack for want
All want to feel love to some degree
Maybe it's time that this bird break free

Thousands of miles unto the sea
Into the wild, with palm and tree

Thinking of western shores that peeked
And remind me of a time I didn't mind to teach

A time when I took pride in the children's minds I reached
and loved the joy I received from each

Now I sit, and face a beach
No board to ride on smooth concrete

I lift my head above the place I weep
The man, the willow, coconut tears for meat
Wake to praise as the trumpet plays

Sounds of freedoms light

I remember my song and why it was gone

Why it was meant

for those who lament

To bring peace and strength

You wanted to feel that presence
With you always
You wanted to lock it inside your pocket
To save for your own need

But the song of a bird that is meant to be heard
Shall give it the will to break free

Big Sisters

You wake me in the morning knowing my thoughts,

I hold you dear like the sky holds the moon

You have told me of things i was not old enough to behold 

And given me my favorite colors

Your light was modest and tender like fresh green grass dewed with a sparkle

I remember a time when i had to hold you, 

when the wounds were deep and felt at the hands of the one whose womb we descended from

The pain was great but i held you and told you we were gonna make it

We have, grown strong and wizened in years and forgiving tears.

letters and recordings and songs and laughter

I see you now as the fruit of pain turned to pleasant trees with leaves that extend into other hands 

Now i can give and know how much has been put into me

into things that I have learned to love and grow in. 

Big sister 

I love that you showed my how to be kind

to paint the picture i want to see

Big sister, i love you 

N.7

 Mirror image

your mother was a mistress, and your father was a slave to her beauty. I am the brother of sin and the sister of lust, i know you.

Your Mothers Child
Boy,
You move like salt lake slabs of tree trunk lost at sea,
your heart is big and brown, and your memory seem to be short
Glossy chap lip, swaying, shoegazing, gnarly kid man, you shredded.
shred'ed

Truth is...

a complete belief,
i sometimes kick my ankles with my boot and it swells
Ive compromised many times but never forgotten the peace in during the bitterness,
It is not an obligation to tell you, the truth. But an attempt made to consider the spirit
in us all

Christ bless you

scrambled egg with basil, please

Its a new day.
As the sun shines and the plump vines sway
I think to myself, in all ive seen, the ins outs and in betweens
I best know, Its a new day.

I woke, with an admit hope that you would be, lying next to me, in bed
instead, im on a couch and next to my head is everything i own,

still i am not alone, I remember the peace that Ive felt from numerous hells passing
coming and snatching in the night
Ive been, Still i must say
Today, is a new day

Dirts,

under my cuticle, my mind is far from intertwined with love.
Mingled with rough patches of pain, i can not be afraid

If you are the wind beneath my wings then i am falling and we were never the source.
Always were we the vessels being poured into. Never the stencil

Now I see, peace is not yours to give to me,
Nor I to you, its truly free

I thought it once to come from being, content and warm in my abode,
Solace in my fortress, home is not here
We've opened windows we were meant to,
looking forward, thinking back, God sent you, to open my eyes to his grace

Im burned down, and empty house waiting to be filled with flowers

do you see me, I see you. Am I blind or is this truly divine

Truly Yours, and truly mine,

I hope I am your arms and you and still my feet
Lord willing I will always hold your hand while you keep my beat

I am here, i still believe this point of view has not changed the dream
the hope, the love , the pain that's on display

Im woke another morning
Today is a New Day

Faces in Places pt. 2

Its been a while. Time is a good thing to take when it is given to grow. In growing we learn and in applying what we have learned we gain wisdom through works.

 When you see something that touches you and you have the means to present that as a piece of your emotion it is a blessing. And that is what photography does for me. I love it and I want to share it with you all. Heres to beginning again and to you all who love and are able to be inspired by the love of Gods gifts to the creation through man/woman/child/mind/body/SPirit. Enjoy


                                       

I call her Alana. She is alive, she is a human being and a vessel with a story. Will we ever have the time to sit and listen, take a chance at hurting for someone. with someone. If only we saw with a perspective of the pain. Spread the loving warmth.
DTLA 

The clutter must suffice. In a place were we do not look we find out minds adrift
Venice Beach 

                                               

Floating with the palm - Venice Ca

DC, is different. I watched a cab driver almost get killed at an intersection by some hoods. This man wasn't so tried. Dc, is different.

Washington, District of Columbia 

One of the most amazing women to ever be trapped in a house with. I remember how strong willed she was. So stubborn and loving and beautiful. Her love for cooking and good company was something i could not refuse during my tour out east. Thank you Celina for your love, mother-like ways and attention. Greece has made a queen.

Rio
The dog that ate your life and pooped on your shoes in heaven. Rio

We set out into the wild. Nema,Rio and I,Looking for adventure. Stumbled upon friendship. Learning to love was the biggest part of our relationfriendshipisode. Something like a marriage to a 4 year old child that eats your life and poops on your shoes when you get to heaven.

Rio

HE//shEhe//ShEhe
I will never know.

THINK TANK - DTLA

Arnold is one of those people you never forget. A Frenchmen with little care for political view points, or banter. Its in the music and the sounds he hears that keeps him alive. In the beat and the colors of the world he is a part of creating through the visual arts, as He is in architecture.  Riding our bikes through the chilled air on a saturday night to a function of large proportion was always the plan. "The Party", but was not always the best idea. The night was sure to show.

I can hear him saying. "Today a good day, and tomorrow, Even better"

DTLA - THINK TANK

Of Course, there will always be one. Thanks Neema  -DC

This Journey has taken me 16000 miles and back. 

Even if you didnt know them. By the time you mustered up enough of yourself to find out. They were either leaving or looking.....right, at.........................    YOU

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You have been exposed before. Have you ever been, double exposed. I would think that that would make a difference.



to be continued........