690 My mom's a workaholic. So am I.
Visions of the future that you’ll never see, photos on the mantle is all I’ll ever be.
My Practice & Me
Have I mentioned that I'm not just a collage artist? I suppose it seems that way considering all I ever post is collage work and poetry; but not too long ago my practice dwelled in watercolour and ink. I look at my old portfolios now and I'm sort of taken aback by my change. Also,... Continue Reading →
Leaf: An excerpt from Porridge: A Memoir
Leaf Freshly baked bread dangled before pigeons. The colour orange and its place in the sky. My big forehead and Daddy’s coconut tree. Pears, peanut butter and August twenty-sixth. Happiness, lies and goodbyes. Smiles, frowns and art making. Seductive, fearless, indecisive. Norma Jeane’s Marilyn Monroe. A metaphor for the things alive inside me. Skin, fat... Continue Reading →
Gallery: An Excerpt from Porridge: A Memoir
Gallery These images cut and cradled, From points of the past, Betray the grace of Time. Underneath each photograph the poet Writes And remembers The beautiful people who took his breath away. Black and white, Sometimes in colour, His messy hand makes the words hard to read. There is something so intimate about penmanship, The... Continue Reading →
Famous Last Words 