there’s another place a city road leading to the edge where red roses color a meadow and a forest line provides a crooked path, like an open door, unseen, but known to wanderers, owning the sense of the line crossed over, where shadows are honored like myself to have been there once
each year a roadside meadow bordered by stonewalls breathes a harvest of wild flowers and weeds sharing soil and space rain and wind seasons of change providing evidence of a glorious gift
Observing the art casually standing lightly combing her hair the painting shouts out creating a mythical character of many faces without fear a champion of gardens the temptress of storms and mid ocean currents her authority stands on the dust within the tiles beneath her the foundation of the colors drawn from them half a … More TRAPPED
VERDANT Morning. Overlooking formal gardens. The simplicity of human geometric design; a collection of divided order breathed to life. A labyrinth of lines, corners and serpiginous pathways. A solitary obelisk in the middle points heavenward, suggesting prayer. Previously, it was a meadow, until intrigue created design from ideas in dreams pulled down … More VERDANT
Wealth is the combination of thoughts, the garden of words where imperfection becomes perfection; the moving of art to the wall of decision and creation. The unconventional surfaces as wisdom. There is an essential compression of impulses dispersed in operatic form. The insistence to peruse is natural, it’s where the person is restored.
There’s a watchman, tired and vain. Hair slicked back, eyes without depth and nervous hands; he proudly sports a flowered shirt. He smiles at the moon, knowing he will never make it to the sky and back. He owns a wrecking ball for the future. Dreams slip out of his room before sunrise. He knows … More SONG OF DAY
Roger Singer 