Through the wreath’s ring
A tree rises off and away
A reminder
Life goes on
Beyond your panes of glass
Crisp blue skies bear witness
To more than you and I
And I am paused in wonder
Is the world a projection of me
Or am i a projection of it
And does it really matter
Because from where I sit
A tree rises off and away…

The 12-year-old boy that lives inside of me just woke up.

My column in this week’s Winkler Morden Voice and Altona Rhineland Voice newspapers

All of this
It’s but pages
Left in the wind
Life is carried away
One sheet at a time
So fast there’s the illusion
That we live in motion
But we’re disconnected bits
We’re stop action animation
Small one second portraits
Lost in the violent gale
Of this blessed curse
We call existence

It’s nice to have a hot tub at the office for breaks.

The office zone continues to improve as we moved the click and grow into it. Lots of great light added.

i am
gut
i am
feeling
i am
buried
flat
without
topography
of any sort
i am
the plain prairie
after wildfire
stolen distinctives
leaving ash
leaving black

i am lifeless
i am empty
i am ravaged
i am managed
awaiting newness
awaiting growth

i am
waiting.