Animal Character Sketch 2

He is a giant black and white arctic fuzzball and he is just staring at me. I think he is expecting me to know what he wants. I could call out any one of the fifteen words in his little brain that he understands and he would react the same way, so I'm taking him outside anyways. Of course, he is not doing what he should be doing and he is just running in circles like a maniac chasing an imaginary bunny or his own shadow. Who knows? I give it another fifteen seconds before he wraps himself around the tree. I was close, it only took ten seconds. He thinks the only way to free himself is to eat through the tree and then sit and wait for an adult. As I am letting him loose he acts like I just saved his life and freaks out, jumping from all four legs, to his back two, and back to four again. He is running towards the door and he bounds over the steps and begins to continue his running game in the house.Through the dining room, into the living room, over the couch, through the kitchen, and around and around again. Finally, he is sitting down and nearly falling backwards from the momentum. He is staring at me again. After five minutes he is finally bored with me and is now burring his head inside of his giant toy basket. He is pulling out a tire toy that could be the spare on a Honda civic or golf cart at least. He tosses it up in the air and shakes it violently, I think he thinks its alive. After testing that toy out and defeating it, he is back at his toy basket; head buried and tail wagging. This cycle will go on for an unpredictable amount of time.

Animal Charater sketch

Trapped in its own cocoon, this insect starts to emerge into the world transformed. It used its six legs to push out of its plastic cage and its frail new body greets the air. As it makes its escape, it is weak and clings to its former prison. Its wings are still small and the weight causes it to swing side to side as it hangs on. After a short time the wings expand and its white spots and orange markings are in full view. It flies in a jumbled direction and lands on an oversized leaf. There it stays basking in the early morning sun.

Environment scene sketch

I close my eyes and lift my face toward the sun that shines though the gray and white clouds. Slowly I deeply inhale. He grabs my hand and closes his around mine. Both smiling, we walk along white shores looking out at endless waters. We stop and he picks up a flat skipping stone. The water is so calm that the stones skips over its surface 5 times. When it finally sank, it was still visible. These waters sparkle like emeralds and is clear like glass. From a short distance we can see the parrot fish feeding on the reef. We continue our walk to the end of this short beach and through a small jungle of palms, sea grapes, and frangipanis we arrive at our cabana. It is elevated above pumice rock and ancient corals. Our roof is made of dried palm fronds and walls do not exist here. Surrounded by the Atlantic we are almost alone, our butler brings a platter of conch fritters and champagne. It is here we stay for 8 long days and watch the sun battle the rain.

Character/Scene Sketch

Beams of light shined through the sheer curtains of our master bedroom and the dust suddenly became visible. My husband was still sleeping like a bear. I lightly nudged his shoulder until he opened his eyes and then pointed to the alarm clock. He rolled on to his back and let out some sort of noise. He stretched his arms out far and sat up slowly. After a big yawn, he rubbed each eye with the bottom of each palm and stood on both feet. As he walked to the bathroom he brought his hands to his belly and began to scratch out of sync. He reached into the shower and turned on the hot water then turned around to face the sink. After a short stare into the mirror he squeezes a gob of toothpaste onto his toothbrush and hopped in the shower. He reappeared 15 minutes later, toothbrush in hand , and shook water off his head like a dog after a bath. A quick roll of the deodorant stick and he briskly walked over to his closet, stubbing two toes along the way. After a few quiet obscenities he went through his collection of slacks and nearly fell over putting on a gray pair. Finally he asked why I was following him with a little notepad. I replied, “I'm being creative” and he laughed while he picked out a blue button up shirt. I helped him fix his collar while he secured his belt and then he was throwing socks all over the place looking for a matching pair. He sat down and one by one he put on his socks and shoes and then sprang up to his feet. He gave me a kiss and said “have a good day sweetie pie” then rushed downstairs and out the garage door. I waved bye from the window and he waved bye back.

Notes of Life

The notes of life are in the air. The gulf whispers secrets of its active day. I sit humbly here on this old iron balcony and stare down at the lively streets below. A man with his trumpet is there playing for me, but mostly for himself. His case is open and the people walk idly by with akward faces of discontent and underlying enjoyment. Then a man stops. He leans against the street light; one foot crossed, relaxed over the other. He closes his eyes, but just for a moment. Before he disappears, he reaches down to the pocket of his ratted old jeans and pulls out a few coins. I smile to myself knowing generocity still exists.
My mind takes my eyes across the street and I observe nightly jesters acting out their skillful tricks. Smiles exchange and I contemplate if I have ever been lost in such a seductive illusion. The night air overcomes my skin and barefoot I return to my studio. The sheer drapes catch just enough breeze to dance with me and I remember I am alone. When can I share nights like these? Nights when I hear music in nature and see life in the wind.

The Power Of Nature

The flood has passed now.
Semi-dry soil lies beneath new grass.
From this soil emerges a different life.

The roots deeper.
The tree trunks stronger.
The leaves sway with the sound of nothing and everything.

All at once.
I listen without trying.
I walk barefoot to feel,
I walk barefoot to know that I can feel.
I create memories of things I have not endured.

I think with no beginning and no end.
Then I toss a stone into my river.
The clouds reflection fades in the ripples.

It could bring shade,
It could bring thunder,
Unknowingly it brings pleasure.

Suddenly flowers are brighter,
And I am happy again.

Summers Night

This summers night,
No window closed.
The breeze breathes faint,
The tide is low.

Lets take a walk,
To the sea oats dunes.
Don't bring a watch,
There's buds in bloom.

Its here we hide,
We can't be found.
Time is a lie,
I'm coming down.