"Aren't you afraid we're going to run out of gas?," she asked.
"No," he replied,
"I got afraid of that once
And it didn't do me any good."

The void of the white space on a piece of paper which calls out for paint or ink
Is like the silence in a conversation which cries out
And asks that somebody give it voice.

What started out as a drawing of an amethyst crystal
turned into a painting of a girl
dancing over purple mountains.
I always did enjoy how that amethyst made me feel. . .

I'm on a plane
And I was just thinking how nice it would be to paint a big sign on my suitcase that says,
"Thanks for holding my baggage for me for a little while -
you've lightened my load and I really appreciate it."