My mind is an anathema to me
Stillness has descended like dying birds upon the torpor of my soul.
I have become lost within lonely thoughts empty of creation,
rust has settled upon the ice in them and will not surrender.
Fire burns a cold flame and night descends
My grace is lost,
I am lost
Unable to do much at all with a bad back (not even sit at my computer) I knew that my drawing and then some embroidery would take away the boredom of pain and pass by the hours......
Birds fascinate me, but even more so when they have left our world...in place of their exquisite song and elegant flight remains their own stilled beauty. A moment of final rest shows us the still beauty of their feathers and form....I have tried to capture the magic of this in my drawing and my embroidery's , I cannot do justice to the wonderful feathered creatures laying still beside me but I can pass the hours in reverence and admiration of their precious and fleeting lives .