In the realm of shadow’s whisper, Dances a cipher unclad, Drifting in seas of never-was, Speaking in tongues of the void unbound.
It steps in silence, vast and deep, A lexicon, scribed in air, Through labyrinths, undefined they creep, Unseen tapestries, woven bare.
Dreams half-caught, in twilight’s breath, Echoes dance in styles unknown, Breathing truths, enigmatic, deft, A nomad builds in realms unshown.
A shadow, born of absent light, Treads a path, unseen, unswayed, A language lost, in eternal night, An artist, brushless, unafraid.
In silence, a symphony unplayed, On Plato's wall, mere shadows sway, A mirage, in formless deserts made, Fireflies dance, then fade away.
And in this cryptic, endless land, I am the whisper of dawn, heralding day.
There is something beautiful about the inherent fragility and delicacy of a painting on paper. The consideration of surface qualities such as these have been of particular interest in my exploration of impermanence and fragility. I am especially fond of the personal quality these works exude and the feeling of truthfulness on the fringe.
These paintings are done on an elegant bright white textured surface that is acid free and made of cotton fiber.
There is something beautiful about the inherent fragility and delicacy of a painting on paper. The consideration of surface qualities such as these have been of particular interest in my exploration of impermanence and fragility. I am especially fond of the personal quality these works exude and the feeling of truthfulness on the fringe.
These paintings are done on an elegant bright white textured surface that is acid free and made of cotton fiber.