every brushstroke is violent.
wood, brush, screws.
photo courtesy of Marco Grassi ©
the solitude of watching others
the many folds of meanings
wood, spraypaint, tape, paper plane
poem wrote in the paper plane
I AM ashes where once I was fire.
I AM sitting, fading, vanishing
I AM alive and so the sun.
I AM between sweet and salt water
I AM a vision in another eye
leather shoe, wood.