A few more miles

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Pencil, pilot pen

It’s been cursing me from my bedside
The last couple of days
I know I should do more
And yet…
I think about an open road
The freedom to run away
The travel to a distant shore
Sleep.
The grass smells with morning dew
The low mist just lifting
Gravel loose beneath my boot
Shift
The shadows reach the day is waining.
A few more miles are missing
Travel long to rest and song
Time yet in sleep and shifting

Music: sympathy for the devil (if you have to ask…)

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Anger, fear, aggression

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Pilot pen

What’s bothering you today?
What’s getting inside your head?
What is it on the ceiling?
When you can’t sleep in your bed?

How do you try and cope?
What are the faces that you see?
Is it a reflection of yourself?
Or is it the images of ‘me?’

Can it cause you to scream?
To cry out in fright?
To do hurt in anger?
To swing punches, to fight?

Do you bury your head to hide?
Can you turn and walk away?
Is there another answer?
Is it something that voices say?

Has the dust just settled?
Is the wound still fresh?
Do you have a thorn?
Buried in your flesh?

Clarity is sometimes hidden
By the clouds of what they say
Go to sleep in peace
Tomorrow’s another day

Music: Coheed and Cambria

Embrace

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Watercolor, pastel

I was asked how big it was… The art, and I realized all similar sizes. I out four sheets together tonight and diluted some black water color grabbed a big wide brush and followed my head.

I wanted to do a figure and two made a nice balanced sense. I’m not sure what the year means… Happiness, sadness, hello, goodbye, why? He looks hard, not angry, just hard, stone to what’s going on being the tough one the man, I imagine he’s crying too, inside.

Music: Listening to songza and not really liking the choices. It’s a play list called Canuck Folk. It’s not folky enough.