(an unconditional love poem for “libra moons”)
song: the fear is not real - willow
“the fear isn’t real/ the battle’s not mine/ no, i don’t have or am had by anyone/ to be the prey/ to be the hunter/ to be the child/ before the mother”
Forever Green. 84 × 49 in. Mixed media. 2025.
There’s much to be shared about one of my favorites pieces Forever Green. This is the most recent message in the midst of heartbreak. Inquires for people “in the middle”, non-binary-ness, justice, values, wisdom and the heart.
They said:
“Every crossroad is a circle. Angles amounting to 360 degrees. right at the center is the point, the relay station. That point pulsates and that point is a circle.
A circle is alive. And sees itself within and externally. Its aliveness allows it to continuously grow infinite possibilities. Spiraling like the many universes and the red tail that flies into the sun.
see those x’s lodged in steel (iron + carbon) !
Broken circles cannot grow. They need mending and wholeness. When that happens, they have integrity again.
Their wholeness is complete and never finished.
The heart is a circular vortex. Sustaining life like the ocean’s waves. That’s Your center. Your circle. Again, Every circle is alive.
Broken hearts can recover, and it requires sight. Perhaps even a visit to the land of undying.
2024
We do not or at least rarely see 360. So, we do not know everything every side every intention every every. But somewhere in the heart there is that…perhaps it knows just enough what it needs. But, I tell you a twisted tongue surely does not!
They say wisdom comes with age. But how does it actually flow when the pot is leaking, and the crown is crooked, and the scales never balanced?
How does wisdom knowing it does not know everything judge people or situations with a broken heart heavy on the scales? With eyes blinded by distrust and fear? Maybe it knows just enough to protect itself? How efficient is that protection against love? Do you not know you treat the love you seek as your enemy? “The truth will do you no good here” is appropriate.
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paper on pencil. 2024
The child is wise. The child is a circle. Do not whisper broken shards in the child’s head…
They walk down the street but looks like a child. Everyone argues about the true age of the person. “They are 7.” “But he has a cane, he must be old.” “She never speaks she must be mute.” “He is always alone where are his parents where are his friends?”. ”He must be a bad spirit!”.
Of course, they do not believe the being when they reveal to the people who they truly are. The people argue still and tell the being they don’t believe him, they don’t care… he needs to choose one piece of his circle. They bash the being instead and choose their own broken circles and shards. They do not see…
From my 2016 Aurites series. 9 x 12 in. pencil on paper
To say “grow up” is to spray pesticides on the seed. The circle.
Thank god roses grow from concrete!
the turkey vultures pick off dead things from us and carry them away. the plant that lives forever.
Water yourself with your tears. Feel and remember circles do not “choose sides” where love is concerned…”
(an unconditional love poem for “libra moons”)