A Foreword.

patterns are meant to be broken.

the interesting thing
about art
is that art is a pouring out of one's soul.
of one's being.
of the essence of one.
everything he is.
or will be.
or has been.

i could never call myself an artist.

forever young.
____

there was a storm.
it came quickly
and left in the same fashion.
the thing that struck me, i suppose...
was the force in which it came.
standing outside was difficult.
maybe it was the tiny droplets of rain saturating the sky
or the wind. the wind was strong.
i haven't figured wind out yet.
its possible...that wind has a sound.
the sound of air whistling past your ears.
or is it the sound of the wind's effect on grass. and trees.
and windows.
maybe the wind's voice is a combination.
there was a lot of thunder.
less lightning.

first of many i hope.