Today it is hard to concentrate

I’m hoping art will ease my distracted spirit

I’m going to sell the family home- a promise of a future, a shedding of the past

Absence of fulcrum, I drift

It’s almost too much for my sentimental heart to handle

So I turn to art.

Lose myself in the weave of the fabric

The timelessness of the colours…







Time…we can count it, beat it, watch it- but we can never have it back…

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