
My first in my legends and inspiration series.
Marker and Acrylic Pen

My first in my legends and inspiration series.
Marker and Acrylic Pen
Some sunlit Sunday when the wind began to paint; swirling lines around windowed tombstones,
Chroming dull, jutting decay and the ironic dancing of litter; saturated with audacities,
Shading the herding commuters with realism and the scattered loiterers in impressionism.
Not forgetting the multi-toning of everything with tornadoes, and the requisite highlighting with hurricanes.
Then for some; the inability will be – to see the bigger picture; with all the unnecassary force
Of incessant rains upon swollen, rolling seas.
This weather has found it’s new career.
Everything feels supersized when highly meaningful,
when the sounds are resonating: orchestral.
When all we want to do is be on pause and to duplicate;
control our flickering flame;
make it dance continuously, on repeat, to keep a much needed mind-set.
Every morning, I see a more vivid scene of what’s exactly outside my
window. Somehow projected, it stains itself seamlessly onto the glass,
precisely before I pull the cord; to open my bedroom blinds. The artist is unknown, an
expert in realism, it’s nice, but I really wish they’d move on.