hairband happiness

Very excited that my painting “hairband” is being selected by some media outlets for Emerge Gallery’s – Primar(il)y Red Exhibit! This first link is for the Daily Freeman

This next link is to the Poughkeepsie Journal
TSupport the ARTS! Emerge Gallery has fabulous – one-of-a-kind – ornaments available for the holidays!


agree to exist


walk away from it all

walk away from it all
we could
you and I
me and you
get the hell out
from the open cell we imprison ourselves in
on knees begging for peace
craning sore necks to fix our eyes between the bars
where we covet the sun
and allow moonglow to paint romantic prison garb across our shoulders
except it’s not passionate, it’s depressing
peace should be easy
as easy as wild blackbent thriving on a prairie
but we over-complicate it
we over-complicate love
it’s all this place needs to shine
easier than switchgrass exploding during warm season
but we can’t because we seem to enjoy the drama of ourselves
and we are thickly dramatic, aren’t we
you and I
me and you
craving eyes more often to desire than to implore
what if we woke up outside our mirrored boxes
and spent one day, sunrise to sunset, watching the grass grow
inhaling saltwater calm on sanded breeze
caressing a possibility of new growth nurtured by common good
God, we could do it
take complicated out of the equation
practice peace and love until our seeds fall from the sky
like cool rain saturating a burning planet
simple, simple harmony

we could just walk away from it all
you and I
me and you
ignore the dust kicking up behind our cracked heels
dry grass stalks dangling from our mouths
and fake smile ’til our lips bleed

Earth's Angel

Earth’s Angel


why fix this broken machine

why fix this broken machine
the urgency in uplifting messages
broadcast with heavy hearts
misguided mobs leveling cruel ends
by hideous means
refusing to behave
as a beautiful homogeneous group
faith shaken to the core
our vast home, shriveling
wicked minds vexed by calculating brains
broad strokes of ignorance painting world murals
why fix this broken machine
pulling loads up the mountain
carts inundated with hopeless direction
greed, avarice, folly, sickness
wishing upon flesh stars


despite every sour moment
we suck into our spongy hearts
there is something undeniable
in the endless beauty of man

we are not machines
we are not broken
we fix the pieces that wear over time
we readjust the parts because we have the ability to do so
we restart the stops in the moments we catch our breath
we reignite the stalls when our brothers collapse upon themselves
we do not crush ourselves, over and over again
we reinvent
despite the few who dare to rip the road from beneath our feet
we continue walking up the mountain

there are those who choose to break
there are many who refuse to be broken

Dream Catcher

Dream Catcher

I wish you all a more hopeful, beautiful and peaceful New Year. Here’s to gentility, civility and warm embraces in 2017


since 9/11

“A husband and father, as he did every morning, kissing his wife and daughter before driving to Rescue 1’s firehouse on West 53rd Street in Manhattan. And his unusual decision to stop as he walked to his van on Sept. 11, 2001, and return to kiss them one more time.”

“I’m saying to myself, he survived. He was a Marine, he was a Boy Scout (and) he was a rescue guy,” Tillie Geidel said. “If anybody could survive, he could survive.”
– Leonard Sparks for the Times Herald-Record, September 11, 2016
Gary Geidelportrait of Gary Geidel, Rescue 1 – painted this for his mom in 2001


concerning my libido

if it’s a deep kiss you want
let’s do it
my feet left the floor
last month
in anticipation of this moment
xxx warning xxx
my desire outweighs my conscience
for this reason
I sometimes neglect the morning newspaper
don’t want to risk a good feel

while luxuries abound in my life
how rotten am I
worrying about
a kiss
a caress
my libido
in worldly places
where breathing moments are precious

passionate dalliances are often secured
by fashionista souls treading upon Pietra Firma tile
and silk bodies illuminated beneath chiseled sconces
so tonight
lips will ripen
with fine red wine
matching tapered candles lit
but not one faith-bearing votive
will glow in service

I Naturally/mixed media

art-from college way back, corporate identity class


what is it you want

what is it you want
insides turned out
limbs astray
hearts cut away from spines
’til the beating stops
praying one day
all are
cloaked and restricted
from a world
created for life to be lived

Know this
the beating will never cease
not in one thousand lifetimes
it is in your head
between the eardrums
the singular
boom, boom, boom
of hatred
the same pounding
of flesh
of tearing
of bodies rendered lifeless
you pray to meet
One who would never
cut hearts away from spines

Earth's Angel

Earth’s Angel

thoughts of peace across the ocean


the other side of the rainbow

“we’ll find a way of forgiving”
is this true
wouldn’t that be beautiful
not to end
in hatred
but to persevere
in love
“somewhere over the rainbow”
because we can’t stay on this side anymore
we learn to cherish

internal not eternal beauty
of children
of people
of humanity
that rainbow keeps looking better
on the other side
green lush, pure blue

conflicts end with handshakes
not burning holes
what color there would be
what a brilliant world we could live in
we’re but one side away
if only

SImon Says Peace

Simon Says Peace

Created last year for a dear blogger friend–Simon Tocclo, a man of action trying to affect genuine change in Liberia. Among his many social platforms, Simon can also be found through his blog, Liberian Me

“We’ll find a way of forgiving,” borrowed from, West Side Story
“Somewhere over the rainbow,” borrowed from, The Wizard of Oz


Ice Mountains

I sometimes, well who am I kidding, I often reread my words thinking exactly that
what am I thinking
what am I trying to get at
I don’t appreciate the kind decades
generous, in fact
as I’ve had them
to write angst when I’m happy
create euphoria when I’m blue
mold dream sequences I dare not live
in both words and colored shapes
often content in my ability
to be discontent
the excuse
the “creative” mind or spirit
instead, the reality
human with the privilege of life
I write this with the clarity of a gorgeous sunup
and a cool affirming breeze wrapping my fingers
now set upon my pricey laptop

the local paper this morning
a continuation of an accident report
three died in a nearby town
driver’s ed car and a tractor
an intersection
two at the scene
one this morning

beyond grief
is loss
young loss
beyond that

turn the page
ice mountains high as the Rockies
chasms six times deeper than the Grand Cranyon
Pluto artfully sculpted

may these young souls
touch beyond ice mountains
their vibrant spirits
forever reside
in the living
with the privilege
to do so

hearts out to them
families, friends…
wood hole nymphwoodhole nymph breaking from birch tree bark
created over the last three days – mixed media