2021 | Oil on Linen | 72” x 72”

What you might find

Behind the shimmering surface

Of everyday life-

The twitch of 

reflexive harmony

Stripped of everything

Beautiful and cruel

And whether called upon or not, 

Is always present

Past the glare. 

The natural effect of decay

Will generate awake

A blast of electricity

For the innermost ultimatum. 

While the underneath comes up

for the remorseless Enantiodromia. 

The unfathomable doorway from which the nightingale sings its lament,

Is alway worth reaching for.

It sits 

Just below your eyes. 

In the eye of the storm

Kiss the procession of instinctive awe.

Allow enchantment beyond reason. 

The oldest form of medicine

Cleans even the filthiest mirror. 

The subtle light

from the dying stag 

signals to the least false.


To defend the door of the mind

of the most true. 

From the swarming hive. 

And lift this desolate veil from an age of ambiguity and cease the low-minded pandemonium ricocheting around it. 

Then, we will remember where we came from. 

All cut from the same cloth

Completely possessed with the goodness of life

And the atonement (absolute excellence) of natures justice

A rare treat