Wednesday, May 9, 2012

draft



I understand that I am repeatedly drawn to the same spaces.  Sweeping fields with soaring clouds that drift between me and the ever-variable blue. Spaces full of suncapture that leave me wondering about the difference between silver and gold. Spaces that hold nothing, but welcome everything.  Temporary hosts to clouds, wind, birds -- open to what or whomever will find comfort within.  I breathe deeply pulling in deep drafts of dust and light.  

No comments:

Post a Comment