Terror 2004, Sketchbook, Watercolour on Paper

And it hurts. Tambourine beats and tangerine accents hide a watercolour sky, as delicate waves reach out, calling me home. I stand staring without focus, without thought, lost in uncertainty, found in pain. I used to count the happier thoughts on the fingers of both hands, now they remain unmistakeably closed. This perfect shoreline forgets [...]]]> And it hurts. Tambourine beats and tangerine accents hide a watercolour sky, as delicate waves reach out, calling me home. I stand staring without focus, without thought, lost in uncertainty, found in pain. I used to count the happier thoughts on the fingers of both hands, now they remain unmistakeably closed. This perfect shoreline forgets so easily as my body falls from another spiralling cliff-top in my saturated mind. Transfixed, yet passively self-occupied, fleeting images of a girl I somehow recognise, drop like shimmering raindrops, as destiny catches an unsuspecting crab making his way home along the sandy plains to a family he loves. This is not the perfect day I had refined for twenty-four years, yet despite the haunting implications, I allow myself to fall through another shallow sky, casting a shadow that memorizes me with it’s sincerity. It still hurts, but the feelings dance inside, a transitory reaction as I construct another perfect rainbow and a gentle, honest smile. I had spent my life searching for that one perfect day, only to find it waiting patiently in your diamond set eyes.

(August 2004)