I feel so inspired when I sit inside these turquoise walls
I want to create and open my heart
your bed brings me comfort and space
distracted slightly with the purrs of love kneading into my arm
or sitting on my work..
missing you while you work..
waiting patiently for that perfect smile
your laughter,
and for those eyes to meet mine..
sitting.
moving towards the ground reaching forward.
I feel a shift.
do I laugh or do I cry..
it does not matter,
because I feel the pressure leave..
inspiration drawn from outside of myself
energy found from within
I crave movement, i need to stretch my limbs, let go of time past..
move into the air and look to the sky for answers
I see it in the clouds across whip lashed faces and torn memories.
why do I draw blood, taste sweat and breathe sand..
drawings that are not politically correct.. but I feel restless ..
i am tired of being safe
why not let some anger out on to paper
anger that i just don’t understand..
i want to draw but feel confused about the things I want to draw ..
I feel a strange
veil of calm wrap around my body
telling me that I did not belong
where I had once stood. I feel a separation-
internally slipping between reality
and what I remember.
The sense of time is built into
thick walls of mud, memories fragmented and lost in the dried cracks
my drawings are among days past
days past the Earth’s erosion
leaving behind tears dried by the sun and wrapped around the rings of trees
protected by rough bark that bites the winds from west and from east.
images drawn on paper torn from broken forests
notebooks tossed into piles unwritten and unread..
plastic and waste left and forgotten on street corners
forgetting the touch of innocence
the purity of the colour green
the integrity of the soil beneath our toes
the honour we owe to which we walk
the honesty we owe to the whispers that reach our skies
unworldly whispers that boom over natures soft duality of morality and virtue..
under man made bridges waters weep through valleys
above trees birds suffocate for unpolluted air
I savour the life that has created this piece of paper,
knowing that my drawings are among days past
to be left among the worlds excess..
remember that there is life beyond yourself
there are heartbeats that beat louder than yours
listen for them
I feel like warm stone with a heart beat and sad eyes
my tongue disconnected from the sand and crawling fields of marijuana, opium and grapes
pulsating green against dull beige
irrigation systems controlled with garbage clogged with mud
I remember- but memories can fail ..
suppertime was the sound of a rocket detonating off the side of the mountain that sheltered my plate.
my palate masked in the grit, nose black and thick
convoys coming – convoys going -patrols by day – patrols by night
sentry shifts and hot days standing on the road
casualties and comms lock down
traverse left – traverse right
OP1 OP2 OP3 OP4, radio check over.
no longer can I imagine the heat and a thousand stars
the resonating clarity of the early morning call to prayer..
