April 21, 2014

Grey Days

When the morning's grey and the rain comes down and the coffee's made and the baby naps... 

...when the music plays soundtracks of years gone by, and the spring breeze brings promises of new life to come...

...when the toddler watches, waiting for the bunny to hop by once more, and the world seems at peace...

...when something stirs and calls for the new, the spark of imagination, the art of the created.

Then out comes the pencil and the dusty wood burner from years back.

And the lines don't matter because there's no rhyme or reason to nature. 

The aesthetics seem off yet somehow are always on.

And it makes it easy to go on without hesitation. To concentrate and yet be free. To feel accomplished and a little bit more alive. 

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