Ephemeral Life

– i – Little shadows dancing on asphalt screen. Wings fluttering unseen, owning the air, as we are bound to ground. Tiny weightless bodies, heaving high and low, flitting up and down, gently brushing by, circling, grazing disturbed skin, stunned by foreign touch.

Lost in Translation

Caught between beds, hours borrowed to Night. Torn between people – no rest. Moments rushed. Lost self.   I wish I could split, live fully in many places at once. There is never enough time.


Eyes bestow, ears tune in. As I run, vibrant sun causes beads of sweat to simmer on my reddened skin, on and on I step – eye-sight flickers. Focus lost. Ground heaves under my feet. I tumble. and regain balance.

Eyes and Ears

Cracking, crackling sounds, chomping clatter, cascading down with shreds, fragments Falling, thudding on branches. Leaves rustle – clamour answering the shocks, rippling in waves, bough to sprig. Shattered airborne seeds, scrap by scrap, fall back to Earth. Organic shells crash, inanimate dust.

Un et Une

Ouvre moi ton coeur, Open your heart to me, Montre moi les details, Show me the details, Qui composent ton être, That create who you are, Intime de ton histoire, Intimate of your story, Inconnu de la mienne. Yet unknown in mine.


Along the asphalt road, the heart of the mountain whispers age-old tales of nature and men. Thriving, striving, belonging, nurturing, feeding, nourishing, settling, struggling, scarring, destroying, ruining, poisoning. Questioning mankind’s stand, stellar heroes brandish Nature’s coat of arms.

Material Witness

Earthy plates crashing, segments colliding with force, exerting pressure,   causing mineral matter to rise and reach out to the skies, prickling   celestial grounds, tickling vaporous feet – ore touch, unsettling,

A Song of Skies and Waters

Eyes slip on water, drawn to air like fire, float, meet astral flames. Lit, burning skies catching fiery sun fire, wielding swords of light, piercing through cotton vapours. Daunting clouds, weightless shields, sheltering, floating.

In the Seam

We are constantly walking between halls, of rooms, we can no longer enter – or cannot yet see – On a thin thread that ceases to exist, as soon as we land the next step. There is no walking back. No speeding up.


– ART – Art makes the world a better place. It stirs emotions in people. It brings to light horrors, beauties, and shows everything in between. It reveals what would otherwise remain unseen. Beware though and look past the frame into its soul.  

Magic Within

Creativity is a voice that you call to. It is right there, ‘t sings inside of you. You just have to learn how to reach out to it, hold, and pull it through.


Heat… Overwhelming Wave of heat. Whoa! I can’t feel My head. I falter. Faint. Fall. Bang! Black out. Soft wind is brushing my cheek. Mmm… Conscious mind stirs. Eyes rouse, open, click. Where am I? What happened? The sun is striking.