In this picture, rustic wood framed, there walk one set of steps, with unsure aim. Within crafted wood, blue can be seen nearly filling the place, cold, sad, serene.
In this blue, slate blue, I lay me down my heart. Lost and bewildered am I in this beautiful hue. Here, in this blue, is where I find myself, because I find you.
In this painting, lines of truth emanate. Light bursts forth, shattering a rigid picture, reaching beyond grasp, in bold strokes, defying a frame. In its edged background, darkness seeps through. Something corrosive. Staining. But wherever the light reaches, there is darkness dispelled. In its fierce foreground, a radiant star-burst flares forth from the form of…
I’m the kind of person who doesn’t officially donate to charities. I often do one-time, anonymous donations. My primary donations are my offerings to my church. I, also, regularly put spare change in the Tim Horton’s Children’s Foundation boxes, and I’ll always do the annual Remembrance Day poppy thing, but I don’t really officially donate outside of the church and outside of those small things. It’s something I’ve wanted to change and now I think I have I know how.