Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

The class began in one hour and forty minutes

She ate coconut cake from the viet namese restaurant

Made with rice flour and sugar

At least here she could stay awake

It was not so surprising that dreams

Tickled her in the night

She didn't look like the other students

She was an older woman

When she looked in the mirror

She was five

The atmosphere seemed magnetically charged


Her children as young men
Gathered cocanuts
For the water


Or climbed a pyramid
With his girlfriend

The art building sort of seemed like an aquistion of the corporate kind

The artists came here dedicated

Taming lines and shadows

Half naked men in robes walk down the hallway

I often feel out of place in a way, going to places that show art, music venues, gatherings of creative beings, because so often I am the oldest one there....mostly I forget my age, the situation trumped by my passion for the subject, but then sometimes I feel awkward, like a dirty old man in search of something he should leave alone....obviously I'm not doing anything wrong...it's all in my head....I related to your poem on some level

I feel so often that time is passing either at a snails pace or far too quickly
Thank you

There is not enough time
To paint
Write good poetry
A novel
Facebook is the new telephone

Mixing up the value
Black white gray