Geography And Memory: Perspective
An alleyway To some… But to others Living in some Far away land Where my memories Often linger, A two-way street.
An alleyway To some… But to others Living in some Far away land Where my memories Often linger, A two-way street.
Stepping into that space, I heard the doorbell ring, And memories of that song Blast into my world, Turning the mundane Into something magical. This is what great art does, It lingers… Continue reading
Don’t presume to know who I am, I am from everywhere and nowhere. I am an urban explorer… I know the city, Its history, its layers, Its invisible lines. I follow pathways and… Continue reading
A place where unconscious memories of our past, interface with the visual narrative of our present…
“Between pine trees And wild flowers, Small churches And bells ringing in the distance… Between shaved ice and pistachios, Bicycles, cows, horses and dogs On our way to the city, There was order,… Continue reading
Between pine trees And wild flowers, Small churches And bells Ringing in the distance… Between shaved ice, And pistachios On school days, Books, games, and laughter On weekends, There were three little faces… Continue reading
From the “Heart Series”
Ink on the wall, Ink on my wall, Bold and refined, Twirling and twirling… Silent and Poised, Spark of genius, Or spark of madness, I see the light.
“Elle était longue la traversée du désert, Elle sera courte notre rencontre, Mais tendre et inoubliable ton souvenir.” I wrote this very short poem many years ago. It is not written in English… Continue reading