Post by LoneSum on Jun 23, 2003 13:41:12 GMT -5
A drifting mind and a poisonous tongue are all I have left to call my own. A desire to have money but a distast for work. I had to push away from that dark tunnel of being nothing. I had to make it all give way. Make the walls around me crash down and the doors before me collapse under my knock. A power, a gift, has been given to me. The power to evoke my readers and observers, the power entrance them within the words I have so beautifully, so uniquely bent and shaped. In my pictures the lines are words and thus my words are lines. Lines that do not run straight but mingle and twist around themselves before finally coming back around like a perfect circle.
