To make a book of pictures and words would count as a childhood dream come true, I think.
That child is so far away sitting right next to me.

Fittingly, this poem from the beginning of the book is about my childhood. Kind of.

.

Making potions
in the garden
Never did amount to much

Turning beauty putrid
Petals, all

Rinsing white stones
in the afternoon
Burnt sienna and old dreams

Wash decay
from indecision
Air still with the knowledge,
this won’t last

I know nobody will ever see me here

.

Image of my self-published book I Guess I Must Have Been Bleeding released November 2022