Tabula Rasa

on loss, starting over, perfectionism, and creative expression

Staring into spaciousness,

It’s purity and potential,

millions of manifestations,

pathways to muse,

then fumbling,

scribbling out the mistakes,

that I inevitability choose,

confused and stumbling,

wishing it was clear again,

that I was clean again,

Malad Idaho - 2024.

I have to start but my legs are lead,

I can’t keep going,

I lost the eraser,

pull the blanket over my head,

I’d rather wrap myself in the unknowing,

the formless,

the infinite,

It feels safer,

In the transition,

the dream that something’s coming,

the lack of form or definition,

floating in the emptiness,

as once taken,

definite,

final,

the boundaries become a cage,

“Shifting Form” 18x24 Acrylic on Canvas 2014

like picking flowers in bloom,

at best flatten in a book,

a performance on a stage,

a relic of a moment,

you don’t want to lose,

now so fragile,

if unhandled with care,

likely to break,

I grow blisters from clenching,

raw as my grip eventually slips,

like snow melt in spring,

like mountain clouds dissipating,

like cosmic stream,

Eco Reservoir, UT 2015 ..

everything that is built up will collapse,

expand and contract,

I have to stroke the canvas,

write the words,

the unplanned mess,

the reveal of rising,

agile with finding,

what ever is will be,

with this I am free.