Paintings
I sat on a lake shore and faced each direction.
To the East, Eternal Becoming.
To the West, Forever To Be and Was.
To the South, The Particular.
To the North, The Whole.
Ancient men and women tucked inside their secret homes hint at things gone and to come. The snake appears every few years, maybe more frequently now. Lightning speaks. Whatever I try to hide will find its way out. However far I reach inward, there will always be the unknown buried there from the beginning; a star, a seed, a night hallucination.