Thursday, December 20, 2007

Una Corazon del Sol

Sketchbook notes 12/16/07

The tip of the knife opens the surface

the deep red liquido stains

bleeding onto the plate

like a handful of crimson dancer's skirt

flicked by a tiny jeweled fist

I can feel the sun warm my blood. The color of my blood deepens a little to sweet dulce de leche. There are times when I wish to worship only the sun.

I'd wear only woven skirts heavy with beautiful colors. I'd have a roadside shrine in from of my little casita with a tin roof. I'd fill my shrine with tokens of love and in my house there would be sand and tiles the colors of the ocean. I'd eat big avocados and tortillas and I'd never put shoes on my brown feet...maybe sandals. I would paint all day and night.

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