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The Woven BasketIt was once full with a baby, kicking rocking herself in the basket grasped by her fatherThe Woven Basket
Her grandmother knit a snow white cap out of yarn, stacked in the basket string pulled out an inch at a time
She grew up using the basket on Easter, as a hat, and a boat on rainy days each weave held strong with the strength of an elm
While she aged, it grayed in the sun lost its spring and the handle creaked as treasures from her life gave it weight handwritten letters, and travel souvenirs
Now she lies in bed and does not recall &
by ~ginlocker
Migrating: ArtHow easily the camera fits in my hand It blinks from each button press An abandoned school, children's stories strewn about the floor With one look I know the shotsMigrating: Art
The horn dances, my lungs and fingers work life into the trumpet, mold the brass, the air into this moving parade of blue oxen, round red plates, yellow daffodils
I drag my brush and feel a rough lizard's skin, see a swing in the w
by ~ginlocker
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"J'unis un coeur de neige à la blancheur des cygnes"
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So... this is art... why? Oh yeah... BECAUSE I SAID SO!
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