The shadow of the tree turns upon the stone, Measuring my day for me. It’s all about time when you are here for An elusive resurrection. The day wanes, The wind lifting unnoticed feathers Tousling hair, and Sending the campfire into my eyes. In the forest, A trembling of delicate tendrils. The branches rise and…

Summer Fox

When cubism, nature, and mind meet, therein lies the puzzle. A soft, yet saturated exploration of organic forms and impressions… the way the eye tracks and perceives, the dance of sensations and my attempt to document and sustain them, and ultimately, to share them.