inversion

My trekking back to the erudite North is

what the doctor ordered. The wheels have

gathered their tyre rough-edged black back.

I am ready to attack, pounce and step outside of

any known comfort zone.

Tonight I feel able, for the first time in

months. My mind, a mass of clouds, but

clarity and silence slivering its way through.

Today, a kind compatriot whispered to

me about destination and considering

art as an entity belonging in a physical

place/space. A definition that anchored me

in feeling comfortable to arrive to an end, not a

finality but a beginning to think about work

on walls, within a boundary of material.

I am considering pages again- paper and its

tactility- as an invitation to produce work

on transitions has made its way on my list

of gracious opportunities.

Up North contains a collection of unforeseen treasure.

Not some wayward dream of an easy road,

but a budding network of island aromas that wash over

me in image and words. Tonight I am grateful for my mind,

for the collection of people around me and mostly

for the embedded passion I have for the picture, the scrawl,

the murmur, the motion, the light, the color and the rendering

of imaginations and souls.