Shadows, as they dance along the corners of a lake, shy of the bright knife flashes of shark fin light in the open water, become serpentine solder lines snaking along the edges of my stained glass forests. Shadows, as they caress the unblemished cheek of yet another child who is not my own, become the oak leaf patterns I turn into that child's nightlight, chasing away bad dreams with soft light and love. Shadows, as they play around the edges of my mind, fracturing what's good in the world, become the perfection of geometry and the pureness of colour, as art allows me to put the pieces back together.
Shadows are my inspiration.
May 31, 2012
Shadows, as they dance along the corners of a lake, shy of the bright knife flashes of shark fin light in the open water, become serpentine solder lines snaking along the edges of my stained glass forests. Shadows, as they caress the unblemished cheek of yet another child who is not my own, become the oak leaf patterns I turn into that child's nightlight, chasing away bad dreams with soft light and love. Shadows, as they play around the edges of my mind, fracturing what's good in the world, become the perfection of geometry and the pureness of colour, as art allows me to put the pieces back together. Shadows are my inspiration.