Tag Archives: inner world

Brooklyn Rainbow

A poet friend once called me an
Now, while it was true I had the ring to prove it, I didn’t understand the full meaning of that phrase until later.
Not until today, actually, when I looked again at the pastel painting I did over the weekend of a rainbow intersecting the Brooklyn Bridge, its light shimmering on the water. Continue reading

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Re-noir – Not Renoir

I went into the dark to shed light on it. Who was I? Not Renoir, but one who would re-noir. Return, go back to what I’d left behind, buried in the depths of my subconscious. What I knew was there in my gut. Continue reading

Posted in ART, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments