If My Body Were Paper and Bones
My imagination took hold of my senses and as I felt the paper I began to wonder about our bodies, our lives here. We are but flesh and bones. Our bodies are broken, torn, weathered and fleeting. I imagined I was paper, a scultpure of paper and bones.
The Night Feeding Me.
I can not seem to escape what these colors seem to be doing to me in a mentally arousing mix of hues. I have moved forward from my stencil work that has brought me mild success over the last few years and felt led to take a few risks entering back into abstract forms, strokes and flow.
