Followers

Monday, March 5, 2012

Departure

As quick as the night leaves the mountain range
I am smoke turning into the morning fog
And you are the wood turning into embers
Some day we will meet again on the mountain
I descend and turn into the rain
While you will turn into the branches
And perhaps the leaves of the cypress ?
As the mist and the grass
We will embrace once more

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GREETING

Welcome to my little world, it is a world within a world, within my dream, within my drawing and painting. An artist is an artist, wether you were born like that or like this. Art is to make or not to make.