Tuesday, May 9, 2017

The image is complete but the writing of it


isn't.   Not yet in the editing phase.  More like a salad being composed and the final touches yet undiscovered.  In the doing, a poem like salad gets done.  Gets served.  Here the writing is on the inside of an eyelid -- sparks of light and luscious comforting graphite.  Trust me, on the plate (not shown) there will be hue-vibrant tomatoes & yellow peppers. Perhaps, pea shoots.

No comments:

Post a Comment