top of page


Pure and full, it moves and is filtered by our past, our view of the cosmos, and of our own being.  The clock never stops, neither does the mind, neither the growth of flowers, tomatoes, the grape vines for anyone.   Seasons come and go, day after day, year after year.  Life moves along.

We have sad and happy times, one overwhelmes and the other apears like an unexpected rain.  It is a desert, whole months without change, and it is the swelling waters which drown with its rush.  It is surprising, deep love, unexplained hope, sorrowful. more

bottom of page