test. do you copy?

The western sky was a blaze of pink, the east still rising blue.
A new page to fill: birds, sky, trees, feelings.

The jade trees also pop pink bright with extensions—crowns.

That flutter in your heart? That sensation is the path to stay on.
Forward; dedicated. External validation is a half-life, decayed.

The bus stops. No one gets on.
Passive, it holds its line.

The news talks. I’m pretty sure the crows called out my name.

July 13, 2015 6:44pm PT


On Wednesday, I learned trees are biologically immortal.
The sun-warmed puffed clouds strayed. Daffodils bloomed
in trickle-down light bent abstract buttercream, back swallow,
just breath and heart beat. We configured ourselves
to fetishize normality. Told-you-so’s now history.
Serving up alignments so remote we constellate multiverses.
Skies of baby blue, that texture, now future tense.
It’s ok if this revision won’t translate just yet.

YOU, Detroit 2016

method making

“I set the limitations. The limitations of course are the color, the size, the wind in the room, and how I put the paint on.” —Pat Steir, Pat Steir: Artist

San Francisco, 2011

Can you quit something that doesn’t exist?

Portland, 2012

trace the traces
unknowingly, knowingly

Oakland, 2015

stay curious or die