Fragments of a Self-Portrait
Where theirs ends and yours begins
How tempting it can be
To believe someone else’s projection
It can take the guise of a gift
And so you mistakenly cherish it
I Almost Believed You, 2025
Oil on Canvas, 2.5 × 3 ft.
Molding Clay
The thread wraps itself before you can find where it begins
It must be narrowing,
I can hardly breathe
Such a flimsy little fabric,
How could I possibly catch it?
It is fleeting.
Well, now this is something.
I suppose it is not thread at all.
It is a long snake of clay
Leading to a block of bentonite.
How pliable!
I wonder if I can find a face at the core.
2026
Set Adrift, 2024
Oil on Canvas, 11 × 11 in.
I Don’t Mind Carousels
It does look nice, doesn't it?
A funny consequence of my confusion.
I’m blind, yet my hands are building something
For you to see.
I’m no puppeteer,
I can’t control these things.
They work and I watch.
Occasionally I’ll hear something call out,
And I recognize it from a dream.
I’ve known you all along.
I guess I just forgot.
Or maybe I was too dizzy to see.
2026
Rest Now Darling
I noticed you across the way.
Are you somber or sleepy?
Both feel like a warm hug anyways.
It is hard to believe that your luscious stability
Is only a collection spikes.
I can’t hug you the way I want to,
One of us is always too big or too small
But to know that you exist,
is peace enough for me.
2026
Lady of the Mountain- Lake Como, 2024
11 × 14 in.