The women I paint have experienced something. In my purview, each has most often done so with quiet resolve. A strength reflected in the set of her jaw, the tilt of her head, the stillness of her silhouette. Her memory of memory seldom more...
This isn’t a regular article/essay type post because I couldn’t think of anything I really wanted to say. Or, could be I am just too lazy today. Still, I am determined to write a weekly something or other so here’s a poem in place...