I often doodle where I write, or write where I doodle. They seem to work off of each other, help me to find direction. Never do I draw too ambitiously when searching for ideas, the things above took little more than ten minutes. However I implore anyone who writes to draw and vice versa, I’m certain you’ll do better for it. If nothing else it focuses your mind and starts to fill the daunting white page.
A thousand revolts stuck in history
know and unknown alike.
Blood spilt to avoid our own injury,
To keep our minds childlike.
I could be a sweet sparrow
traverse the endless blue,
never have I felt the cloud’s arrows,
seen an owl or thanked a horseshoe.
Instead I’ll wander through an endless wood,
in search of past Gods, beasts and men,
feel guilt in not accepting my freedom
only to realise I’m stuck in a corporate den.
Here lies he, eyes so wide,
a bright screen set aside.
Virtual self in decline
but can now touch earth and pine.
Leaping up, on the wind he rides.
In regression, he comes alive.
Does the worm worry,
That once it is split in two
it is never whole?
Or does the worm laugh?
When it is split forever,
a friend will be grown.
My ego is hungry.
I’ve been starving it of late;
my soul is still gone…
A sweet way with words,
an addiction to strangers.
Oh to be alone…
Despair is drowning.
But in the depth of the sea,
Worries drift away.
Wedding ring for sale,
clean only on the inside.
Found in post-mortem.
A Canvas job I did for my parents as a Christmas present.
It’s easy to forget that we are part of the nature we destroy, it’s easy to think we are separate from the rest of the animal kingdom.
Yet when you’re standing at the sinking sunset, the sunlight completely immersing you, Continue reading “Painting: How The World Goes Round”