He Came to Me

It is only my fear
that keeps me from my happiness.
I have survived many things
and it is the tide of this history
that will carry me into his arms.

Disturbance at the Gate

Things never stay dead.

Just when you think you've buried all the corpses of your issues and marked all the tombstones, you turn to find gnarled decaying fingers breaking the soil.  Sometimes it feels like it would just be easier to let the bastards eat me instead of fighting them back into the dirt again and again.  After rebirth fifteen I really stop seeing the point.

From The Sketchbook Archives: The Gate

This was a sketch done the same time as He Who Bears the Fury.  This became a finished painting as well.  After a botched attempt at changing the main colors of the painting, in frustration I painted over the entire piece.  This sketch is all that remains.

At the Bottom of Everything

Within the vast mucoid detritus of our lives,

lurk the forgotten and the exiled,

the denied and the refuted,

all the wretched furies never given voice or form.

He Gave in to His Demon

There seems to be a demonic theme running through my art this month.  Considering the conjunction of Saturn and Mars in Libra on the 15th, I can understand it.  These two are known respectively as the greater malefic and lesser malefic and they are together now in the sign of balance and relating.  We are all stepping on each others toes and having our personal demons/issues dragged to the surface.

From The Sketchbook Archives: Shadow Struggle

I think at the time I drew this, I was sensing the coming struggles I would undergo with my sarcoidosis.  I felt a great inevitable darkness surrounding me.  Not sure on the exact timeframe, but I know it was before 2003.

{Sharpie}

Discovery in the Hall of Mirrors

We sleep upon the surface of a vast ocean.

Solve et Coagula, the Birththrone of the Self

At the throne of identity,
today wants and tomorrow becomes.
In the heat of today,
the bricks of tomorrow's foundations are kilned.
Endless cycles of becoming,
crest the surface of this ocean of being,
merging and breaking
shattering and melting
arriving and leaving.

From the Sketchbbok Archives: The Heart Reveals Itself

No secret can be kept forever.

{Sharpie}
Apologies to Mike Mignola.

The Bride

Heart echoing intensity,
understanding growing within,
full of the fear of becoming,
the bride steps forward.

He Waits for Me at the Threshold

He waits for me at the threshold of rebirth,
at the cup of the phoenix.
Together, we will shed our skins
to discover the truth between us.
Soon there will be nothing left to separate,
no misgivings,
no deception,
no fear,
Only an endless tunnel
vibrating and shifting,
moving closer and closer
to the threshold.

From the Sketchbook Archives: Identity

The energy of creativity strains to free itself from the blockade of the singular identity, the limiting "I".  The blockage compounds the energy and it stagnates, becoming volatile and negative.  The Identity becomes a brittle frozen mask, almost devoid of any remaining humanity.

Not What He Seems

All things become naked
in the fullness of observation.
The deception of surfaces
is pulled away like stage curtains
and the interior script
plays out the true drama.