At the very end of my dream I stepped out into an incredible, pure white light. In that moment I became the sky, the oceans, the mountains and the breeze, and they became me. Neither future nor past mattered, for time itself had transformed. In that moment I felt love-

BEING [...]]]>

At the very end of my dream I stepped out into an incredible, pure white light. In that moment I became the sky, the oceans, the mountains and the breeze, and they became me. Neither future nor past mattered, for time itself had transformed. In that moment I felt love-

BEING LOVE, 2010
Acrylic & Oil Pastel on Canvas

It’s thirteen thirty four in the afternoon, and you’ve left me all alone, in a building where the walls hide secrets that lie inside.

There’s a difference in the air, or in your hair, but I guess it doesn’t matter, when you’re floating on your cloud, looking down, at everything you’ve ever loved [...]]]> It’s thirteen thirty four in the afternoon, and you’ve left me all alone, in a building where the walls hide secrets that lie inside.

There’s a difference in the air, or in your hair, but I guess it doesn’t matter, when you’re floating on your cloud, looking down, at everything you’ve ever loved and lost.

It’s true that you should be my queen, but instead you choose not to dream, don’t you know that time will only drain you grey.

If I offered you my hand, and took a walk along the sand, do you think that if I held you, we could go back to being friends.

All the things that went unsaid, and the thoughts inside your head, the first time, I looked deep into your eyes.

And maybe this is fate and something we can’t change, but I’ll tear down time and space, for just as long as it takes to see you face, and tell you that I love you as you are.

(January 2009)

Slip, slip away, remnants of a shattered distraction plague my mind today. The sun still rises but it seems hollow inside, devoid of the heat that warms my soul. Perhaps it’s the rain, perhaps it’s the same, perhaps I should stop talking in paradoxical lines. I know the day will save me, but that [...]]]> Slip, slip away, remnants of a shattered distraction plague my mind today. The sun still rises but it seems hollow inside, devoid of the heat that warms my soul. Perhaps it’s the rain, perhaps it’s the same, perhaps I should stop talking in paradoxical lines. I know the day will save me, but that thought lingers in my consciousness longer than it should. Another haunted dream, another broken seam.

(June 2004)

Seven thirty four, I dream of you knocking at my door, Seven thirty five, I dream of taking you by surprise. Imagination never dies, Imagination never dies. Seven forty three, I dream of you and me, Seven thirty four, I dream of wooden floors. And don’t be surprised that the imagination never dies, and [...]]]> Seven thirty four, I dream of you knocking at my door,
Seven thirty five, I dream of taking you by surprise.
Imagination never dies,
Imagination never dies.
Seven forty three, I dream of you and me,
Seven thirty four, I dream of wooden floors.
And don’t be surprised that the imagination never dies,
and don’t be surprised, when we survive.
I believe in an imagination that never dies,
I believe in a love that never dies.

(July 2005)