Life is funny, isn’t it? We walk one way, then turn this way, then that but really, it’s all the same.

I was reminded today, by one of my favorite teachers, of the poet I carry inside of me. “Oh hello, Poet. You’ve been sorely neglected, have you not?”

These past 2 years I’ve found myself exploring the world of color and light and shadow and form as I fancy myself an artist.


My mistake was to assume that one exists in exclusivity of the other. I can be a poet or an artist. No. I can be both. More accurately, I am both. And I like that about myself. I like remembering that about myself.

Like I said, it’s the same. It’s the way I get from here to there or perhaps what’s in, out.

Art and poetry are so personal and yet we share this journey. We walk one way, we turn this way and then that. We do it together and we feel so alone. With color and words and swirls and rhyme I expose the pieces of myself I never knew were hiding. And I’m gifting them to you, my neighbor.