random flow of chaos

Fractal pattern people pose invisible inside elaborate design on cold glass formed without ever falling this snow sculpture beauty is compliments of the random flow of chaos captured if for only one moment.


Lost in the graphic flow of white winter as background motion comes alive like fish swim in or out of water.


They wait these ever evolving snow creatures for a change in the season that will be warm but spell their demise.


Who tries to speak through this muted weak light of winter morning eye behind the trunk of tree plays cat and mouse game with the periphery of perception and comes to life with a smile no more than shattered bark lines cut from age and cold that give a simple but obviously contrived appeal to the moment before elusive spirit of the cloud that seems to haunt and follow like a shadow tries to stay behind to define the space that once took the place of the body as it slid between these luscious liquid moments.


Further proof that even skinny people can survive a Canadian winter, barely, do I look cold? I'm certainly not as cold as I look, really.


the spot

only through absence
does empty become concrete
nothing is something