(c) Singleton 2006
It's all good,
We can fix this...
SOLD to a sister in peace, in time......
You're broken.
And I'm watching.
Dragging out the paints and the glue and the glitter.
Waiting.
You're broken.
And when you're ready, we'll put you back together again. Tidy up your damaged soul. Paint a prettier past for you to fall back on.
It's all good,
We can fix this.
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9 comments:
OMG
We can do anything~ can't we? And if even if we can't change the colors of yesterday, we can change their impact & we can change the colors of tomm.
funny that you should mention the colors of tomorrow, it's kind of like deja vu. i just had this conversation with a friend...What color is the sky?
I love your words and your are a fantastic artist. You are beautiful in everysingle way and words can't bring you down. No matter what they say.
I just bid on this painting on ebay. And you'd probably get a kick out of knowing I was friends with Janis J. back in the Haight Ashbury days. I'm so glad I was in that whole generation thing then. We so had an impact on the direction of humanity. It was so fun and so wild and now looks almost innocent in retrospect. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. Tick talk, rock, rock the clock, rock, rock rock, rock talk, talk rock. I'm a geologist.
I always get a kick out of you! And you should know...I have JJ in my dash as we speak....STILL doing the generation thing! Rock on, MaryEllen!
Do you ever do larger than 8 x 11? When I left that size paper behind (took a lot of courage for me to do it that's for certain) my art work improved I think. I'm rooting for an 11 x 17 by you yellow butterfly. Or do you already do larger?
oh, I do the walls, the halls, the floors, it all! but this past year, for reasons buried in these pages and for reasons ever present on these pages, I had to simplify everything. "And now I'm Joe." With the porch light on all night and the never empty clipboard. Because it's easier. And the pictures here, really, are just pages from my diary, set free. Peace, love, and when that butterfly lands, long enough for me to trace my fingertips across her surface, we'll need bigger paper. Until then, she's an aura, a constant, a little reminder. And I'm a hippie with a backoack of markers and a clipboard, chasing her!
Coming here, I think you crawled into my brain and stole the pages of my journal from that deep dark place you call secret lives and then painted them kind of pretty so when I turn around and see the ghosts of yesterday, they are maybe dancing instead of haunting me
Dear Anonymous, Ghost always dance...they're free and they finally can...don't let the past haunt you, there's a reason for everything...and sometimes, we all have to be reminded.....
Sweet MaryEllen,
Another soulful paper kite sent on butterfly wings....I'll miss her...And she'll miss me...but only for a while...Enjoy, believe...
Thank you....
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