I come and go with my musings and moments of inspiration. I casually wander around in both the mundane and versatile details of the life I breath; along dingy city streets or any countryside densly popoulated with colorful greens and trees. The sight of nomads backpacking, mom-toting babies on thier daily walk among quaint homes, bucolic churches or plush green feilds converging into a blue sky—they always pull me.

When it comes to my fine art, I am equally committed and inconsistent on any given day. I am bound to urgent napkin notes and envelope poetry…though less scatter brained, as I can now thought broadcast into the memo of a smart phone. Except it’s been too many days since I have stilled myself in a space and moment to capture and memorialize any part of this life. It’s not easy being me.

I carry this brain and this heart and these hands and on more than once or twice a day, these feelers and seeers nudge me to take note of, hold remembrance too, take pause and immortalize the givings and misgivings of the day. And these past few weeks, I’ve had plenty. I continue to walk in lessons and impending victories. At times I am self aware enough to dialogue through the doubts and the dicoveries.

But I know one thing for sure, no matter how busy or self occupied, the letters of the alphabet are always calling me. They implore me to shuffle them into mixed media and prose imagery. It is the strongest desire to run free in the expanse of vocabulary that perpetually haunts me. I feel I will implode if I do not give in to the fulfilling of the release. I have to give my words away. They do not belong to me. Time and time again, with the simplest expression, a caption, a thought given away via any frequency…this is confirmed for me. There is someone always in the point of need and I meet them with a soliloquy.

Which leads me always to one sound conviction: He gives me words to fill-full His thin-skinned vessels and all the beautiful, bruised and beloved ones. I am among the humans He uses to scribe messages of light and love and beauty. Of hope and inspiration, and fragility. He funnels and filters and flows through me. What a heavy blessing to bear; truly a brilliant burden, to blend faith with sentiment to bind beings and their belongings with brave words in the brevity of any moment. And I wouldn’t pass it over ever. I know, I am called to lay all the breathtaking, beauty and benevolence down. I am called to write.

erm…It is Well