Moonclad: Gliding easy cross thick pillowed sky, Bleeds rays of shunned light down. Candle bright to wash inside an empty eye, Life’s other side, not of day, new rules apply. Inside out, the underside, sleep now awoken.   What dances

‘We stand, as we always have to bear witness. Resting clouds pillow the livestock, a cold fleece before a rising gold made light by the warmth. The sky parts giving birth to a great sun rising. I watch, four thousand

So perfect in design, a dessicated carcass appears a rusting shell. Lines altered, purpose removed, form hunched but relaxed. Spattered with the noise of time retains identity and beauty. July ’14   A post of odds and ends in my

Glitch Art: When the machine takes matters into its own hands…glitch is born. The random element ravages the order. Sometimes it brings a hidden message, distorts a truth or obscures it. Have we grown tired of  order so soon?

And from the clouds the gods did clamber for the earth and performed their works upon its waves. For this was their purpose for it. This is work in progress, working with Greek mythology:  

  “Now I walk with shadows, befriended by darkness to share these brief moments. For we my love display both sides of life’s shell. Here we meet, life with death, separated only by the warmth of mortal flesh. I can

I leave behind my chalk and clay, that I may mark the earth that way. A footprint in line and form, my mortal shell to those unborn. Fossil, relic, blueprint, guide, design of home where I reside. Mortal coil of