I didn’t mean for this angel to be quite so horrifying. I’ve been sitting with the news of a death of someone young in my community, and thinking on the feeling of loss for a parent, a sibling, a friend who’s known them from earliest childhood.
How are angels born, and what umbelicus connects them to that which nourished them in life in the world?
moons, surf, shellllll
springtime rain in the garden
We have a new artist in the Harmony Collective gallery, Leonard Ragouzeos. So I have been able to spend some time with his small gouache abstracts, and have found them inspiring for my own experiments in gouache and acryla-gouache. That’s what I was thinking about as I pushed myself to make something out of this particular noodling.
I had only a little time, but could not find the quiet space needed to make a fast drawing. Instead, tangled cords, unfinished.
separate, yet connected
ready for a warm spring vacation
the vase spilled but there are plenty more flowers outside
How is the neighbor over your fence?
eyespider 