Grounded to land vs. Riding the wave
A journey too extra for just one part.
Reflections on communism, inspired by the water colour of a Korean artist/friend/soldier that I crossed paths with in the wise city of Sofia, Bulgaria.
Sense is the seeing, believing, the touching, tasting, the being
The slopes that rise and fall With our breath between them Are a sihloutte of green hips On the horizon: Suspended across the skies In an effortless sprawl, They are wild thighs To the wondering mind As a pen is to paper The incarnation of daydreams.