Oh the artist, the art that moves From deep within, rocks harsh that bite the winds The molding surface, banished, into the gloom Where lizards, crawl And buzzards loom But rain does fall, it's gentle caress To refresh the moment And upon the breast A heartbeat strong, In beats In time In time Creation comes.

Good evening! I could go in so many different directions...so many creative projects on the way....but, I just wanted to come over and say Hi to You! So many interactions today are made without the human element, and do we really know if there is anyone who cares behind the thoughts thrust into our days. I just wanted to reach out to you and say I really care. This music I make is from me to...

All jaws were wide open and not a voice could be heard. It took a few minutes to come to the realization that they may have finally found the large vein talked of so many years along. Black Jack broke the silence with an "welllll.......I'lll beee" as Goldsmith wiped his brow and steadied his gaze. "Black!" he said in an almost reverent voice, "do we have enough light to dig a little?" Black...

If you think of it, it's the nuclear...the center of where all of one's process comes from. The outcome so to speak...of destiny, of heart, of love. The small little place of how one loves their own. It's insignificant to others but it's the beginning of ones story. The strength of a story unfolds...it finds it's way in the dark. It is only as strong as it's core...and it's core needs love. WE...

Twas such the saddened soul lay low, Heavy burden painted here below The cupboard twas the latch undone Twas a bowl be seen, and only one A bowl of nothing A bowl bowed so "No fruit?" twas whispered in quiet stead "Why empty? Is thy soul unsaid?" "Why down thy weary head? Look up! Do see above thy track! Above the darkened, gloom Do see a tree of fruit delight! Full, delicious fruit to bloom!"...