Window Soul Sills & Obfuscation Drawn Behind Curtains. Wellbeing means something different this season.

To get through, by… to try, even against hope.

Hiding, but smile a slitted gap, seeping sorrow.

Frontlines unclear, enemy assaulting the soul, an unlikely war taking its toll. 

Carnage all the same, casualties pervading, onslaught imminent. 

Nature drawing death closer than the fallen sword.

Anthropomorphic account of the desert flower. Gleaning hard sought lessons about the incredible resolve required to survive the lowly draft and keen thirst of the Arid.

Vehement winds of change rivaling the balance once held dear,

contending wisdom brought to nought in the sheer face known as the delicate condition of human fragility.

Never despairing, blessings surmount on the back of angel wings.

Harrowing out, sucking air, stealing breath, slipping between teeth, plummeting life under the black of skin, the colossal weight angel legions are tired yet to carry. A breathing democracy, injustice shan't suffocate. This piece stands in firm solidarity with the BlackLivesMatter movement.

One life lost, battered, bruised is one too many.

This piece seeks to draw parallels between the generosity of mother nature, our collective home, and the parent mother who is our first introduction to what safety, well being and love are all about. It is a true miracle that the personal takes after the universal. Both living, loving, breathing…

This piece is inspired by South African current affairs having commemorated Freedom day, International Workers as well as Free Press day all in the same week. The ideals now appear to be evolving in the face of the Coronavirus when hunger reigns supreme, and whether that is the pang itself or perhaps the appetite for a time better than this.