The Living Journal Archive

Describing the underpainting of my latest piece.

I don't want to disapear anymore On a couch in the thunderstorm alone, bewildered, confused the deer frozen dust in the tail lights. Helpless. Be. Good. so they don't leave. Don't speak. so they stay kind. In the back studio. when the dragon broke through the veneer and rage wanted me like a dog devouring his toy. Freedom slipped into the night like a ghost without a candle. me-there- holding the echoes of who I once was. I hide in the underbrush of logic and reason. Its a ho