When An Artist Dies
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When an artist dies,
it hurts a little more. Beauty is stifled all too often
already in this world.
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For Our Eyes Only
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There is a poem I remember every spring, one of my very favorites. And it encapsulates the season so beautifully to me.
Read MoreDriftwood and Hagstones
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I decided I really wanted to add brackets above my Brian Froud painting, and feature a selection of some of my favorite hagstones.
Read MoreFinal Mythic March Friday
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“All good things must come to an end,” or so the saying goes. And so it is that we find ourselves at the final set of Friday prompts for Mythic March.
Read MoreThe Fair Maidens of Kinuko Craft
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I never realized how deeply a woman could hypnotize before I saw her. Completely inattentive and naive to any realization we are observing, she sits with her eyes downcast, thoughts fully inward, neck arched and as feather-white as a swan.
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