a bone face

Fresh wet rain like a varnish coating or sugar glaze covering candy.


It's in the subtle variations on a theme of a colour that distinction is made by the eye able to differentiate subtle nuances.


Whose face do you find making leering little gestures from behind a glass bubble of rain that contains the seeds of future prophetic vision like death wears a bone face even when it's not Halloween.


It started with a sound. A sudden rush of air focused and frantic. Peripheral vision identified the source as it broke the placidity of the gray sky. As one entity they rose, startled birds seeking the safety of high wires above. They return, one by one, to the puddle and continue to drink.

From a distance the frame was imagined and prepared and it was with purpose the feet headed straight to their center, without pause. It was the eyes and ears that dictated the moment and let the individuality blend to one thing that has to be seen and heard to really get the taste of grace.


There is a self inside the self presented to others that is not the self as we might like the ego to be and it's the self we try to see when following the path that we need to supersede to guarantee our purpose is universal.


Like black holes suck energy the attention given to the density of space is balanced by the modern petroglyphical inscription.


Let's face it, I don't make these things up, they really are out to get you.


Repeating spirit returns even when the vantage point is reversed for like a mirror it keeps sending images out.