Hello my friends. I've been writing recently. It's helped me to let out my creative-ness that's desiring to soar, on wings like eagles! : ) I've been working on some poems recently. This is one that I've been working on for the last 2 weeks. It's about a man that I envisioned at one point. I really tried to get at the personality and feel of the man here. Perhaps this is just an introduction to him; not sure. I'm gonna have some pictures to go with it at some point as well; perhaps like a children's book. Let me know what you think...

He liked to blow bubbles

How charming a man, of elderly years
who walked through a town, where nobody hears
his clothes were of old, yet perfectly worn
well kept though they stayed, and never were torn
a buttoned-down shirt, always tucked in
brown corduroy pants, were ever so thin
he liked to blow bubbles

A casual stroll, leaning behind
though pomp did he have, with an ever great mind
oh worry he not, the sky it so blue
filled his eyes with a sparkle, and his smile so too
his belly so grand, good portions he had
but something not food, that made him so glad
he liked to blow bubbles

The sound of his voice, was ever so high
few words from his mouth, yet no one asked why
not anxious at all, some bid him a fool
though wisdom he holds, so precious a jewel
oh pleasant he was, the joy of his heart
though not from his own, this treasurest part
he liked to blow bubbles

He hoped in a man, though some say he was
who gave of himself, like anyone does
yet different indeed, than any one man
they called him a son, who opens his hands
he fills you with life, some people did say
so life filled his heart, one incredible day
he liked to blow bubbles

As I gaze at the street, I see him not there
what keeps him today, my minds' not aware
I ponder his peace, and think of his joy
where is this good man, I've seen since a boy
it's been quite a while, that he's walked down our street
I remember his face, when our eyes used to meet
he liked to blow bubbles

My mind fills with thoughts, when I think of him now
the gold-laden streets, he must walk on so proud
what joy he must have, now all's said and done
his hope is fulfilled, and his victory won
and now not alone, as often was here
a family he has, and nothing to fear

he liked to blow bubbles



Wounds heal over time. Things mend over time. In the midst of difficulty and trials the Lord brings renewal, redemption, and life. It was really good to paint again. Haven't for a long time. This is with acrylic on canvas panel. It's 8" x 10" I believe.

just Him and me

Another sculpture that I created 5 years ago, has been reformatted, if you will. Instead of screaming in the midst of the struggle, I'm crying out to Him. He is the Rock of my salvation.


This is a picture of a sculpture I created 5 years ago (see 2009 post entitled "Struggle") When it fired, the image that's a self portrait exploded. I've had it sitting in a box since then desiring to rebuild/repair it. God has been drawing me closer to himself and this struggle of my holding onto the earth/world is no longer something I want to identify with. I thought it was interesting that the self portrait "me" exploded while the hand/arm of God remained intact. It reminds me to choose Him... every time.