We’d walked wharves together, played upon rooftops, facades, within intimate windows. Sailed along the coast. All that he was, he laid out before me. All that I wished to be, I listened, enamored. Lazy afternoons, intensely tracing lines, he entered my heart. And then we parted. And here, I stand once again, among the charcoal lines and shapes and shadows, feeling the warmth grow around my heart, for your care, your exquisite tending. The course wood, the gentle lapping, the slight chill that blows in among the piers, all there, but you keep me warm. You hold this place eternally for me to be embraced by you. And reminded. Our lovers, ourselves. Speak to us as no other can. Even when they’re gone.
This guy was defending a kiosk of concert posters in Deep Ellum.
I am not willing to die for this JOB! The first thoughts that happen to pop into my head after the lock down at my elementary school.
I am here.
I've been through the streets of Dallas. So many times, yet when I pass those streets. I remember my childhood.
On boring things
My sable brush and pink ballet slippers...pas de deux this weekend.
Sunday, I learned that I am taller than a Samurai. Right there in the Kimbell, my world shifted....
"Lead Foot" young masters' art, stopped us in our tracks at Dallas Art Museum today on our way in to see Hopper's drawings.
Clyde