Time, like liquid,
spirals down into Autumn.
One day, the sun pours over the scarlet leaves like amber;
the next, grey curtains of rain wash the brown hills & nourish them for winter.
Time, like liquid, spirals season into season.
Lately, I have been exploring art journals as another expression of creativity. I am still very much on square one with this process, but I have an idea of how I want to play with this small stone on a prepared page. Until the page is painted and scribed, I leave you with the words I was playing with this morning.