Thursday, April 11


am i blue?
i sure am.
blue in the face, blue of mood, blue like i haven't a clue.
and is this guy blue, too?
he is:

another end of the batch blast of acrylic boneheadedness, from me to you.
there's only one left to show you.
and i've already begun the preliminary triceratops hottness.
there's sketches started, references at the ready,
and i'm thinking at LEAST three, like those horns,
and all those magic numbers we hear about sometimes.
i made a lot of skulls.
thirty, all told, so far.
they all look a little bit alike,
but they're all pretty different for being the same.
i think that's true in my whole life.
the same and different,
different and the same.
there's overlaps of spirit and memory, gratitude and generosity,
and lightning-striking viking berserker barbarian battle-beastliness
all across the full-spectrum of warrior poetry and folk liveliness.
that's what this woodsly goodsly vault of feelings is made of,
and that's what i keep in my heart next to the big fat heaps of love
for SO many little ladies under 5' 3" and a small boy or two, too.
there's art and then there's artistry.
i make art in the form of wooden circles with faces on them,
but i employ artistry in every aspect of my day,
from breakfast to bedtime.
if only i had better words to work with,
or clearer visions of tomorrow.
instead, it's one day at a time, one foot in front of the other,
falling forward into an uncertain future with more sentient sentiment
than sapient syllables;
never quiet, never soft.....

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