These are the clangs of the clock counting sunless times. These are the lives measured by a painted sunrise.
Tag: Art
The Painter and the Thief
When a hardened man breaks, it is all the more shattering. Such is the agony of being seen, in a world accustomed to unseeing.
Welcome to me.
TJK; I doubt y'alls are actually reading this, but if you are, hey - welcome to me. I have been a writer only in the most technical sense - that words are tipsily tapped out from beneath my thumbs in a tangle of thoughts, all of it me. But I am not a writer in … Continue reading Welcome to me.
On Art
My good friend K is a brilliant painter. In the company of her craft, I am awed and humbled by her skills and quite embarrassed by my boorish tastes. The thing about art is, you’re often expected if not assumed to know it already to partake in the conversation, which makes it awkward for one … Continue reading On Art
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