Gossamer Whimsy

Once half-full or conversely vacant fearful of change yet admonishing stagnation the glass rests paradoxically empty silent as infinity or the space between these ears where nature in despising a void might seek to refill with understanding more substantial than gossamer wings and whimsy. SSMatthews 4/25/18


A ceaseless current rolls its course as surface oscillations- archetypes of the human mind, in endless fascination, seek the swifter water where the elemental flows. Barnacles bleached and drying cling to underlying form, all my expectations wash like driftwood to the shore, tossed to beach and dying in the aftermath of storm- One more piece … Continue reading Driftwood


Deeply introspective images of an inner landscape barrenly, quietly, screaming for truth, honesty and self-love. Hope is faint, not feign, but fading, falling as the last petal of a scorched rose. The tower of psyche, the last bastion of ego, crumbles in a wash of acid tears. Still, what remains is tomorrow. A new sunrise … Continue reading Sunrise