I’ve been redefining myself lately. Into what, I’m not sure but I’m now in my mid-60s and feel like I’m blooming into myself! In an effort to understand what’s happening I’ve been painting a variety of monsters (some of them friendly) and women and imaginary animals. Whatever is happening to me, it feels magical. The world is opening up, my senses are alive, and the wind blows through me.
He does wander
I couldn't be fonder.
The paws are signing
He wants to be dining.
He walks on my keyboard
Because he's ignored.
He lies on my legs with a purr
While shedding all of his fur.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
This painting began when I wanted to paint a slightly overripe banana. Then it decided to be something else!
gaia mouse 