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Flower Series #6: One Little, Two Little, Three Little Flowers…

February 26, 2012

mixed-media collage

Flower Series #5: Wall Flowers

February 7, 2012

mixed-media collage

Wall Flowers – aka – Flowers you can hang on your wall – Enjoy!

Flower Series #4: Emflower Thyself

January 9, 2012

mixed-media collage

Flower Series #3: Rain Flowers

August 22, 2011

mixed-media on wood panel

Rain Flowers

Flower Series #2: Go With the Flow-er

August 15, 2011

mixed-media on wood panel

Go With the Flow – er

Rage

August 11, 2011

    

mixed-media and personification

mixed-media and personification

     Rage is the sister of Betrayal. She shared her love with Arrogance and found it the next day crumpled and torn in the garbage. Wounded and sad, she mistook Cruelty for Tenderness and asked for his help removing the dagger from her heart. Instead, he drove the dagger deeper until it unleashed a storm of self-destruction that blew entire cities in her soul to smithereens. Now, Rage lives in the dark corners of rooms, counting and recounting the hurts she keeps in a tiny blue box, filed in alphabetical order.
     Rage stays hidden until she senses another wounding on the horizon, no matter how small. Then, she whips herself out from the darkened corners where she lives and snatches it from your fingers, like a pearl from an oyster, before you even know what has happened. She sniffs and coddles the fresh wound like a newborn baby and spends hours selecting its name. Ever so carefully, she finds its rightful place in her tiny blue box and tucks it in.
     Rage defends her hurts like a mother wolf, baring her razor sharp teeth at anything that threatens to wake them from their peaceful slumber. She sharpens words on stones and swallows them whole, rendering herself speechless. Each night she howls hollowly at the moon, a silent bellowing that rattles the stars and sends some into death spirals across the sky.
     What Rage hungers for most is Understanding, but her ravenous appetite keeps her from getting close to him anymore. Sometimes, she thinks he might be nearby, but when she reaches out to grab onto him, her hands come up empty, and she realizes he wasn’t there at all. She calls out to him in her dreams, but her words are muted and her movements erratic. The more she runs toward him, the more distant his image grows.

Flower Series # 1

July 1, 2011

mixed-media on wood panel

Speak of Beautiful Things and Carry a Big Flower

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