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Mandala Rock Art

Seasonal Haiku Green buds against sky Cacophony of birdsong Spring's heralds arrive Song of the week: "Between The Rain" by fellow TwinGeek Jim Tyrrell

This one is a study for a watercolor painting.

One True Beauty Finally, where I hoped you would be; now Butchered much to my misery. Locks of glitter and a solid length, Shelved in a closet. My joy it has tanked. Speechless in chair, I let her chop. Feckless, left with fuzz, straggles, a terrible mop. Fopp and tears, folding laundry and such. A night of shifting terrors kept waking me up. Jo sold her tresses to climb. Apples, typewriters, war effort, equine. Her sisters rushed in to comfort her woe, While here in my parlo

Her Own Private Archive: A Found Poem Words from Daniel Mason’s North Woods She dreamed about these Ancient forests. (Glorious Beyond imagination.) She has found That the only way To understand  the world As something other Than a tale of loss is To see it As a tale of change. For a moment stillness hangs Over the rubble. And then, It all begins again.

Deadhead: hand dyed 3 ply Navajo plied blend of merino wool, yak and silk

Faux Stained Glass; Wakanda Punch (cocktail inspired from MARVEL’S Black Panther, crafted by myself at Chunky’s Cinema Pub)

Faux Stained Glass; Titanic

Faux Stained Glass; Lady GaGa Discography imagery from The Fame, The Fame Monster, Born This Way, ArtPop, Joanne, Chromatica & Mayhem.

Heart of Gold

Still plugging away-- slowly-- on my green and orange runner. I've got a "click counter" app on my phone now, to help me keep track of my row count and ensure that all my stripes are the same size. And my latest acquisition is a wooden yarn bowl, which fits right under the loom and keeps me organized. 😉 This week's song: "Rise" by Public Image Limited

Bollywood

Thus Far A birthday poem Shamed for daring, for growth. There is no satisfying those Who’d never be what they want. When she has reached and realized It’s all a bunch of bullshit, how quickly The game swallows her back up, Into the Sarlacc Pitt. Her tentacles Flail to escape and useless. She is Cassandra. She is Leia, and no one Will listen to her foolishness. Drown in sand and omission Of possibilities bright on the TV Screen. Dream of throwing A ball that is worthy, or Supp

Harridan What I shall call the next Collection. The words we use For She. Belligerent. Bully. Bossy. Strict adherence To rules inflicted          On us each when young. How Flynn’s Cool Girl Speech Can be an anecdote For this need for acceptance. She said, we get a rush From men’s attention, Because we have all been taught To falsely assume they        Are superior. Ladies, This is a trick. Embrace The labels like your squawking, Newborn son. Swaddle each; Make them your own.

"Slow and steady wins the race" A little more progress has been made on my St. Patrick's Day runner-- which will now have to wait to be displayed 'til next year-- but it's been slow going. I continue to hold the thought that any creativity is better than none, though.