This picture is my starting point when I’m told “let go, man;” / it’s a sunset in Suomenlinna / Island: a navy ragged bed,
All in Literature
Freedom
She could hear the whistles of the trains coming and going, but the deafening roar of a crowd had not reached her yet. The crisp air around her smelled like the looming winter, but that did not matter to her anymore. She was free at last.
God is a Rock in the Bottom of a Pond
This poem explores how the enigmatic, uninterested environment seems deaf to give answers to the afflicted spirit.
About Painting and Artistring
Walk into the mind of an artist with this found poem: what is it like to paint others? Or to write about them? What remains inaccessible to artists?