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CHANGE.... 
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At this age, it seems necessary to make a deliberate, concerted effort in order to change the way I see.......My creative self, the mark-maker, the lifelong artist got used to having regular epiphanies......An arrow would fly into my life and pierce my reality......split open the ordinary, rattle my quotidian........give way to a new dimension.......a new way of seeing ......and I would resume my work with a flourish of fresh insights, refurbished texture or a pearl added to my heart......... I must deliberately open myself to a fresh surface........inspiration is dawdling in the doldrums.......If I were the Cricket, I would transform this comment into a poem........
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At this age, it seems necessary to make a deliberate, concerted effort in order to change the way I see.......My creative self, the mark-maker, the lifelong artist got used to having regular epiphanies......An arrow would fly into my life and pierce my reality......split open the ordinary, rattle my quotidian........give way to a new dimension.......a new way of seeing ......and I would resume my work with a flourish of fresh insights, refurbished texture or a pearl added to my heart......... I must deliberately open myself to a fresh surface........inspiration is dawdling in the doldrums.......If I were the Cricket, I would transform this comment into a poem........
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IF YOU SAY SO. SOMETIMES I WONDER IF IT IS BEST JUST PLAIN NOT TO LOOK AT ALL ANYMORE. AND PLEASE TELL DARTER I REALLY HOPE HE RECOVERS AND CAN GET BACK TO HIS ART AND COOKING SOON. WE ARE NOT ON SPEAKING TERMS SO IT SEEMS.
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In spring life renews the beauty of greens and blues In summer when life is grown It's thirst that turns to brown In Autumn the leaves will fall And colors fade in a dying call In winter the cold and white blind each to a certain plight Life seasons change colors, but if you don't mind it color of beauty is not seen. but perspective to find it. After writing this poem I wrote something else.. To dusty about truth.. that certainly applies here. truth and beauty are strange bedfellows.. As beauty cannot be defined as a truth as it exists only in the eye of the beholder. "In simple really, It's a truth... that beauty cannot be set aside as a truth but truth can be found..... When beauty can be found in the ugliness."
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Thank you for playing with me......
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