When a tree falls, the movement causes vibrations in air molecules;
but a brain must be present to turn the vibrations into 'sound.'
but a brain must be present to turn the vibrations into 'sound.'
Roses are red
Violets may not be violet
I know this sounds terrible, ‘cuz I cannot sleep,
Now I am listening to Radiohead’s Creep
(Source: garronpaduk, via starvinghippos)
FIK, The Fork, oil pastel on paper
——————————..and here is a little poetry-—————————-
Love comes hungry to anyone’s hand.
I found the newborn sparrow next to
the tumbled nest on the grass. Bravely
opening its beak. Cats circled, squirrels.
I tried to set the nest right but the wild
birds had fled. The knot of pin feathers
sat in my hand and spoke. Just because
I’ve raised it by touch, doesn’t mean it
follows. All day it pecks at the tin image of
a faceless bird. It refuses to fly,
though I’ve opened the door. What
sends us to each other? He and I
had a blue landscape, a village street,
some poems, bread on a plate. Love
was a camera in a doorway, love was
a script, a tin bird. Love was faceless,
even when we’d memorized each other’s
lines. Love was hungry, love was faceless,
the sparrow sings, famished, in my hand.
—Carol Muske-Dukes, Love Song
FIK, in progress: The Fork. oil pastel on paper
..definitely in need of warmer colors
The Breathe-with-me
The Furious
The Got-uh
The Fast
The Fast & Furious
