The edges of memory

40 x 30

40x30in Acrylic on Archival-Quality Natural Cotton
Many of the most beautiful things I hold dear, usually came from the little things….or in the things outside of more normal space. Outside meaning, away from my comfort zone, away from my recollection, away from what I thought was there or coming. It was in a place that caught me completely by surprise. I remember the sun shining through one of the craziest storms I’d seen in Florida during my stay there. It was all grey, dark, stormy, then a hole in the cloud started to form and the sun shined down during the storm. I reached for my journal (watching inside, from a restaurant window seat), then thought….no, this is for me….not the paper. I can’t recall the day, I don’t even remember what month it was, but I do remember thinking how beautifully strange it all was. There are many moments like that in life, that are really just for you and you alone, outside of the normal day to day stuff. The stuff most memories are full of.
When you really wanna write,
You shouldn’t write a thing
All beautiful things
Weren’t meant to recite
Some where meant
To live outside
The edges of memory.