Sunday, August 31, 2008


Words often inspire images...

If she danced, in earth colored dresses, hair wildly parting the sky in millions of thick lines and circles
if she spoke, in languages of those around her, words splattering against the trees like dozens of blackbirds dotting the lines of her dresses
if she slapped you with the open nakedness of her hands, like splattered paint, covering you with her wild colors and stories of where she may have been
and left you tied up in language,
left you tied up in senseless multi coloured words
the smell of oranges and patchoulie
the scent of fingers against your mouth
if she heard you, calling her name in the senseless night...
wrapped you in distorted notes
strung out and tied to the strings of her guitar
voices lost inside the depth of the hollow carving
plucking you out like grains of sand between her thighs
If she spoke in nothing but rhythm
would the blackbirds tremble,
would the words fall from your lips,
would her dress be ripped off from a hurricane of blistered words


the painting is called INDIAN HOPE TREE. this was done in 2006-07 during Transition...
I am Indian. French. Bohemian Soulish..:) enjoy the art. the music. the Writing. The insight....just enjoy.

this i do not know. Sara is someone i often wrote about, but it was so many years ago...perhaps a reflection of my own soul at that time, perhaps someone who wore so much pain on their outside, i somehow felt compelled to put pen to paper.....

She is strong-almost too strong. It can be hard to be around her when she is scared. She comes on so strong, almost lashes out on me more then I can take.
Sometimes I say nothing and sometimes I respond.
I prefer not to...her defensive mood makes so little sense.
Sara has a way of striking, that I prefer her not to do alone. No use in 'biting back' she's usually only biting her own tail and for me to respond would only encourage her to spin in circles more, like me, Sara is also sensitive.
She's Bullheaded (good thing) and likes to do things on her own, even if she asks advice she often turns around and it doesn't matter if you said it before or not...she said it now...another good thing.
I respect that about Sara. She is strong
But until she realizes that she needs to soften up on herself, she will never soften up to anyone else.
I know she cares about me, as I do her...
but she'll end up maybe, more scared if she doesn't learn
the gift of Softness.

1994 Posting

...Sept. 22, 1994...
Some poetry I wrote, from many years ago...

the writings during this period of my life are the power of hearing what is given, from the Universe.
I read some of them from time to time, and often can see 'writing patterns' that began long ago..certain phrases...I'm sure eventually you may see the pattern too...for those of you who know my songs...these are the early roots of such things.

Near the water
I pray
hands folded, eyes closed
head bowed. I pray.
Hold on while the wind still blows
be strong
like the light that shows
in the darkest dark.
rise early
hold your dream through that storm.
Don't Let it Go
just because of stillness
it is
just before the storm
you will survive
you will be Trusted to do great things
you must hold on
now rest.

Self Portrait

Self Portrait
This is Not a Drawing