Wandering Beyond Starlight

As you are far,

So I am near.

In revelation,

Wandering beyond starlight.

 

A voice familiar,

Kept in my unconscious

Spindle.

 

So close you’ve

Come to

Knowing,

Yet tracks split

In seething fury.

 

Restless lovers

On the rusted

Wings

Yearning to take off

Into night.

 

Your glassy eyes

An indicator,

The bottomless orbs

Of everlasting traces.

 

A tip of the hat,

The call to flight,

Raven’s beak

A soft sounding

Recollection

Of our time in

An infinitely marked earth.

 

 

 

 

 

Perfume

Tricking the pages,

Appearing in perfumed fantasies.

 

Crystal glass,

Moments preparing the

Skin,

Budded enchantment.

 

Adornment, the backwards effect

Of feeling,

Plummeting to dark waters,

The absent orator.

 

Hers the glance to

Eternity,

His the momentary realization of

Taste.

 

Piece of prism love,

Fractured steps of

A cool undulation,

Soft marabou slippers

Sliding across the living room

Rug…

 

Diamond reverie,

Candy body topped to be savored,

Sugar lips reciting the night’s revelation…

 

Smoky jazz,

Wrapped to the jams,

Carried under a satin layer.

 

Spat way up high,

Roused in music

Trailing past itself,

The oncoming quiet…

Love as in Silent Films

Along you went,

As vapor clears,

Vastness as your

Entry,

Time spent to its

Bottom.

 

I’ve witnessed the

Back of your suit

Trail beyond,

A click

Of the elevator button.

 

Down to its cement depths,

You’ll never face

Me again.

 

I’ll take stock,

An angry face

To burrow

In a black winter’s coat.

 

Sadness unveiled,

When the moments you

Pace in your apartment

Are allowed,

Then stitched up when you

Climb to the greatest heights

Of the skyscraper.

 

Alas,

Sighing to your mirrored

Visage in a sterile

Bathroom,

A sudden change in

Composure.

 

Those silent films

Playing in your mind.

Melancholy classical

Music droning on…

 

Will I gather you

Up,

Frame by frame,

Sleep unto dreams?

 

Will there rest on

Seas you gaze upon

Heavy foam thrown to

The shore?

 

What will death of

Love salt your

Eyes with?

Love Lyzardz

Poet’s fire,

Guitar sweeps.

 

Emotional storms aplenty,

Darkness consummated.

 

Beauty evoked,

Traces of dreams

Sprinkled over

Murmuring voices.

 

Journey unveiled,

The Hollywood desire,

Long road from

Home carrying onward.

 

Story to a story,

Love within love,

The artists’ far

Reach

For highest erudition.

 

Peace for the

Ones who listen,

Quiet for those who

Sleep,

A voice for those

Who cannot express,

In amorous oceans deep.

 

Love Lyzardz

Night Rider

Here is a painting I did at art camp years ago in NJ.  It’s called “Night Rider.”  It was inspired by my love for riding horses.  I used to ride in the English style at a place called Seaton Hackney Stables with my Mom when I was little.  I set it at night because there is something so serene and quiet about being out in the nighttime world.  It hangs in my Grandpa Schott’s house in NJ.  He is a treasured being, having spent his life being an inventor at Bell Labs and still life painter on the side.  He always has helped me out with my various art projects.  I used acrylic paints for this piece.  I love what a brush dipped in color can bring to the world.  Fanciful musings on canvas.  Art is love, beauty, and prayer for our souls.  Have a blessed weekend fellow artists!

2012-04-19 18.17.31

My Birthday!

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I turned 28 exactly at 9 AM this morning EST and I somehow woke up right at 6 AM PST!  Onto Pacifica Beach for some surfing, Cako Cupcakes, and Pirates Booty with my big sis today!

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Candid outtake from yesterday’s shoot at Crown Beach in Alameda!  Lol.

Title is:  “This MF, SOB photographer can’t see I’m cold, tired, hungry and want to go home” according to Steven Ansley, my photographer.