How expressing oneself is the road to freedom and the way to home. Being able to use all the arts gave me freedom from being one kind of artist. The love I have for writing, acting, singing, playing music, and dance was stilted because of my perfection. Intermodal work has freed up my expression and now I never experience writer’s actor’s singer’s dancer’s musician block ever. Except time is still my unrequited lover, I never have her enough in my hands.
The Roads of Home
The Roads of Home are trampled simply and complicated
This beauty of a raging ocean engulfed the earthbound protégé
The master operated a fireplace that kindled the gross points and check points.
They had their ways
I don’t remember the time we last separated.
Awaiting the visitor
The stranger is visiting already when we arrive ~ I will be surprised once again
Just becoming acquainted
Yet it’s a grand reunion and all that’s really needed is a big party to mark the occasion in a suitable and most appropriate way so that I won’t forget again.
I don’t remember the time we last separated.
I have my ways
I have ways of seeing and connecting my life landscape’s
The horizon to the sky, the sky to outer space
We went looking together to see where they touch
To capture the moment, we tried to take pictures of the oil-stained fingerprints but our batteries ran out.
So we painted it instead, and danced it and sang it out loud.
Who needs modern life anyway. I’ll use pomegranate juice if I need too.
The strangers will meet somewhere again and I swear this time
I will mark the occasion.
I will bake a cake
Or ride the wild horse to the edge of town and howl at the moon
And cry out, “they have arrived and meet again and don’t forget this time, please!”
I am calling for the winter kin and the spring traditions that I make with own two hands.
I’ll have that party in summer or early fall maybe
And there will be no intuiting of winter in the trees hinting leaves.
No frozen feelings, just passion and real connection to the inside of the inside.
A new morning arrives everywhere
I am a legend: that’s what it looks like here
This is beyond 20/20
Way way beyond without shape or form but clear as day
A constantly changing image arrives, a life’s work in progress find’s it’s ground
It’s own ocean and a naming of the shores - this is home at last.
Same moment they will arrive together in the same place
Inspired in breathier moving life
Between the waves and the ways, there is a space
There is a space for what wants to arrive but never quite does.
It’s a peak into the great mystery, a way of seeing the edge
Leaving these places, because we must always leave these places.
Leaving I see finally that I can still see and yet still haven’t seen all there is to see.
Oh but the opposite is true, I can’t see and have seen all there is to see
Expired in death
Still life
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