Camden, Maine. Getting back into making personal art after working on a huge commission these past few months.
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It’s easier to remain silent for someone
whose words only ever got twisted.
(spoke in other forms though)
Running from what?
Nothing. And everything.
Until they fell off the edge - or flew-
and plunged into an epiphany where words can’t
even translate,
can’t touch you.
“Don’t you come looking for me”
on the wind.
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Night Owls
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4 Comments
Jim Bradshaw (@jimbradshaw)
So dreamy Tricia. I like!
Tricia Clark (@gouacheink)
@jimbradshaw Thanks Jim :)
punka (@punka)
Beautiful colors.
Tricia Clark (@gouacheink)
@punka Thank you !