The Forest

Memory, No. 5

mixed media on paper, 2017

26" x 40" 

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Stand quietly, lift one's eyes toward the elevated crowns, to the scattered pieces of a steel blue sky.  Hear her speak.  Hear her history.  
For there is none who speaks as eloquently as she, whose words pacify as many wounded spaces as hers.  Disappearing sheets of fog, slow moving mist, slants of sunlight whispering warm ochre into moss-covered shelters.  Handsome woodland fragrance, earthy musk.  A haze resembling a thin veil falls assuredly over the conifers.  A gentle wind sweeps through the aged state, and leaves descend onto the ground without hurry, carving sienna and umber impressions along the way.  Hear the faint rushing of water nearby; breathe in deeply the clean, sweet air of Eden.  These are her words, her conversations, the experiences she gives selflessly. Stand quietly, and you will hear her.


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For Nala.
03.19.15
"In the presence of nature, a wild delight runs through the man, in spite of real sorrows."  http://paperglassbottle.blogspot.com/2015/04/still.html.