Sometimes God gives us dreams. But, like a caged bird on our back, we carry them endless miles. The storms billow and the bird sleeps. Still we trudge through the years. But, if the promise was given, it will be kept. Place one foot in front of the other until at last the skies clear…Read more Carrying Dreams
art
Littlest Voices
All over the world, they peer from the shadows of deconstructed realities… From the rice fields of Vietnam, laboring under a relentless sun. From the slums of Kenya, neglected and starving . From the mountains of Nepal, sold into slavery. From the countryside of Zimbabwe, oppressed by the whims of a corrupt dictator. And from…Read more Littlest Voices
Days at the (Art) Museum
As a kid, I was a bit of an anomaly. My grandfather created wood carvings, but, otherwise, I seemed to pop up out of nowhere - an artist born to an accountant and an engineer. An oddball, but never a misfit. My parents could not have been more supportive. My family moved to the countryside…Read more Days at the (Art) Museum
Wandering
Psalm 56:8 (New American Standard Bible, NASB) You have taken account of my wanderings; Put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book?
Out of Flames… Wings
As I began to paint again, irresistibly drawn by "the stronger pull," an old theme re-surfaces. The idea that out of the fiercest flames of our lives, we are granted wings to fly high - and carry others with us. The Wings are Mine Dense winged creature clawing my chest - cawing over charred dreams,…Read more Out of Flames… Wings
