réflexion imperfection.

Je Renais

I had a dream in which I was the girl 

you lucidly imagined in your childhood,

My hair whipped about me, pacing the feathered wheat and wildflowers
of an infinite meadow.
I was not whole, only a sketch of myself,
and reaching unknowing for your hand,
a hand unstenciled, whole, complete,

I could not verge far enough,
and so I began to shred,
dissipate as if ashes,
into tiny sketched drifting seeds, utterly vanishing

into an eternal wind.

I am reborn.

been busy working on many different photo pursuits, 

books, exhibits, publications,

lots of things to come shortly.

In the meantime, some memories: