Poetry

If the words are few,
they are probably true,
Especially in a poem
where words and thoughts stand
alone.

Where have the wild things gone?

Me oh my but it’s been a wild path!

Somewhere between words and the world, and a perpetually curious heart, life has unravelled and the wind carried me in so many different directions. It’s been the most beautiful adventure and it’s only just beginning – but it calls me to abandon some darlings.

So this is my blog’s swan song; that final breath before the end.

The exhibition can now be found and followed on Facebook (for more journalism and traveling tales), as well as on my Fine Art website (a bouquet of canvases and stained surfaces) … so pop across and let’s go on another adventure.

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a note to the writer going to war

You are going to war, my friend.

No matter how soft your step or tender your touch; no matter how kind your words or hard your helmet – you are marching into the depth and darkness of despair. You are going where the rain is red and wounds are washed by weeping widows. (more…)