after

i once walked
through graves,
tracing names
on tombstones
faded from sight.
i imagined
bones in boxes,
separated from
their souls, left
to wait for some
kind of return –
to ash? to dust?
or is there only
the shedding
of skin so spirits
can finally soar
somewhere
among the stars?

Lines

Much like poetry, I never quite know what the lines are going to mean when I’m painting. The end result is seldom what I start out creating, and I am usually more satisfied when I let my creativity take control. This painting is my first attempt at abstract drip painting.

Untitled. Acrylic on two 10×20 canvases.