This is one of the pictures that tells its own story, without my words.

Maybe someday I’ll know how to talk about those spirits and the ocean of creatures they seem to be escaping

Prismacolor art stick and felt tip pen

A song of growing, ripening, harvest.

I just finished kneading locally grown wheat berries into the bread dough.

Crayon, color pencil, watercolor.

Wings. The word “condor” hovering around.

Mostly joyfully playing with colors.

A box of 64 Crayola crayons,  and an 8H pencil.

Bear in the woods.

Hiding, hibernation maybe ending

Collage, caran d’ache and wax crayons, watercolor

As I listen to news of the protest in Madison,

memory echoes of Gordon Bok’s “Another Land Made of Water”

Color pencil, Prismacolor art stick

Veils and swords. Another bug princess dancing. Under all this snow spring is stirring, we’re heading towards the light time, the warm time.

Pen & ink, colored pencil, watercolor.

Winter winding down but snow pack still high; hungry time. Moon tangled in the antlers of trees. Still waiting.

India ink, water soluble crayon