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Gaia Soulmates
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EntracedDance : 22X30” Watercolor on paper   I’m not sure what to do when you love this much, when you desire so much life-blood flows down your legs in pools at our feet, An African dance The drum calling in that push away from me Pull me into you sort of way The ocean singing in soft tones And crashing In tears Leaning against the back of couch Because I needed that bit of distance Lest I just get drowned in the whirlpool Venus dressed in barnacles and neglect That wisp of hair Across the gap With gentle fingers Before the drum calls For something more beautiful
EntracedDance
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Picasso's Rose Period Eyes :   30X40" Watercolor and Indian ink on canvasStanding in a doorwayRight passed the over turned garbage Can with vegetable scrapsAnd cactus hearts Spewed outSlinging an old guitarShoutingTo no oneTo anyoneWho will listenIn a tiger striped outfitWild hairLike some soapbox preacherTo an unknown god of oneWe pass byAs he mutters"It's Halloween everyday for me"So unlike SandyAnd her serial monogamyBoy,girl,boy,girlPaperdollsCactus heartAnd vegetable scrapsLeft behindOn Mission streetThe scent of rose incenseDrifting through the open windowWhere"Jesus loves you"is written in SpanishAnd you know I love youWith all of meAnd I would say it more oftenBut it's just too big andIt takes a whileFor me to travelTo someplace whereI can actuallyTouch you with this desire
Picasso's Rose Period Eyes
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Wooden Dragonfly :   WoodenDragonfly28X20" Watercolor and Indian ink on paperWooden DragonflyThin wood like an oldWeathered clothespinThat spring motherWas hanging the laundry outAnd the light like it would never end,That moment.Unlike those twoLatched together so wonderfullyPurple-blue on the impossibly green grassAt Pinnacles.And one wing shorter then the otherSo it can't really flyOr if it couldIt would go in circlesLike a rowerWho has lost an oarOn the morning lakeBy the grassWhere the dragonfliesOf dusk Tease of promised love.So we could walk This night beach so serious gazingFor magical stonesFor East (birth, yellow-green),South (Ocean, youth),West (Fire, older now),North (white of winter, black) andBuild our alterEncircle us,Spiral in like dragonfliesIn August LustOr we could just laughKnowingThe magicIs there alwaysAnd we really don't know how to flyBut in our dreams
Wooden Dragonfly
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SkinToSkinToBoneToBlood :   SkinToSkinToBoneToBlood19X25" Indian Ink  Bees Wax and pigment on paperSkin touching skin To skin to skinTo blood to boneTo skin toSkin touching skinTo sweat to bloodTo skin to skinTouching skinTo sweat to bloodTo bones to skinTo skin to skinI called you lastNightI got your answering machine againSkin touching skinTo sweat to bloodTo boneTo skin to skinTouching skinI once climbed treesAnd touched starsWith my mindAnd the last timeWe talked youSaid you feltSorry for meSkin touching skin To skin to skinTo blood to boneTo skin toSkin touching skinTo sweat to bloodTo skin to skinTouching skinTo sweat to bloodTo bones to skinTo skin to skinTouching skinImagineIf we WereTo shed this skin to skintoimaginetoimagine
SkinToSkinToBoneToBlood
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AwkwardPromisedLand : 24X36" Watercolor on Clayboard PanelA Tuesday night, almost Wednesday and what an awkward day of the week but it fits me right now. I began the week and a painting with an awkward color, royal purple stuffed into the bottom left side of the painting like a big messy challenge.How to make the awkward graceful? And it does happen. After struggling with it for the past few nights it's now what it was meant to be. Just like the man/beast that I am, intrinsically clumsy and ill fitted and yet graceful when I am loved. And I remember those dreams where I would go to school and had forgotten to get dressed first and everyone would stop dead in their tracks to point and laugh at the naked clown. But god how nice it was when someone would be so thoughtful as to light the candles in their room and take me in to their warmth, to smile and laugh at my lame jokes, to pretend that my fumbling fingers and the dry mouth of someone slightly scared to death gave pleasure. And it's good to be strange when the strangeness is no longer a stranger in someone else's eyes. To be known to fall fast asleep before the candles have burned down and rattle the early morning walls with less then the soft breeze of easy breathing.And I wondered why I was made so beautifully awkward. But then if I thought I deserved to be loved, would I have known this gratitude?
AwkwardPromisedLand
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BigSur The Hermitage Fire :   There is a placeA quiet placeA space of darknessThe morning of gentle wavesThe wind blowing through your dark hairYou spoke to meIn that special way of yoursThat only I could hearNo one else knew you where thereThey can't imagine that night you returned to the top of the hillAnd I started the fire belowI warmed my hands in the burning dry grassAnd I could hear the sea screaming stars
BigSur The Hermitage Fire
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TheBlueLady
TheBlueLady
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Kota's Eye : My daughter took this of the love of her life, her first horse Kota.
Kota's Eye
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