Wisdom For Today.

Art is never finished.


It is only abandoned.

I would love nothing more.

I would love nothing more than to live in a cobblestone cottage on the rain-soaked outskirts of London; somewhere in a shire, where the green moss and misty air keep everything sweet and slightly wet.


There are vines where I live and a thick fog makes every path but a few feet long, step after hopeful step. We walk softly, hearing the crunch beneath our leather boots. Occasionally, I twist my heel for a bit more of that textured step. The long and hollow noise of my walking stick dragging through the grass is enough to make an angel weep; glad to be alive.


By afternoon, the fog has rolled out and the pond is dancing with reflections of the clouds above. A bird sings outside my window, on a branch that is slightly wet. The dripping patter of saturated leaves paints the air with a rhythm like no other. No man could follow it, but my spirit is dancing like never before.


It rains quite often here and that's what I love the most. As evening blows in with the crisp breeze, the bubbling song of frogs can be heard. It is the reason sound was created, a perfect use of the invisible stuff... masterfully suited to take advantage of each tone and frequency, and all with such sweet repose.

Often, I will dream of that place... that paradise.
But I will awake to encounter another.


I must save the dreaming for rest.
Right now, there is work to be done among the living.

ANOTHER VIDEO!!!

"Holding Out"
My latest art... merged with the art of Lester Finn.

Need QUICKTIME? Donwload it free from here.