a beacon on the way

Finding a flower alive under the gray of rain in the season when all things die is like a little smile even if it is fake.

Within the pattern dictated by ten thousand things making a shape, one leaf stands up to say, take me back to the tree.


It takes a long time to find but if you occupy the mind with thoughts of seeking nothing it will appear as a beacon on the way to aum.


This fish swimming upstream rides the back of the frog spirit carrying imagination away in the flow.


Strive to leave a lasting impression that will survive the moment embedded like a fossil the dead leaf forever stains impermeable stone.


Positioned between layers of perception impossible to define one from the next the deviation battles the mind-eye domination trying to decide inside from out.