top of page

My body weaves

ambition fibers,

tentacles of braided

Burning grass with
carcinogenic roots

.. ..

Camped beside the
mellow shore

you pour oil on the

flames pain the air
near- spitting up

smoldering tree

A green pain in your

A soft organic bread
mounted head

Groan baby groan

.. ..

Lone baby --oh

own your ambitions,
you’ve got the lease

cast premonitions out
of reach

.. ..

Draw a picture in the

of your lovely lady

when a blue grey day
offers us all we need

Close to seed--- stop
to feed

---the head gestures,

soft impermanence

A lack of license in
blight of societal grounding

.. ..

I know you lack

the key is in acknowledging

that every molecule
is precisely


but the whole



.. ..

I, too

in the grey blue

shudder and curse

muttering devilish,

sanguine seeming

screaming steam

.. ..

how comforting to

how disintegrating

how steep

how cranberry and




.. ..

Mumbling indecision

unguided moment—heart

undercover of velvet

eyes black

as dancing black

Laughs at me

.. ..

Black bile consumes

Appetite looms till
the moon blooms


shed my skin and

sli-ther away

Music moves, and so do the pictures that I make. The canvas is the format of the song, a rectangle is like a ballad. I start with a line, like a beat or a riff, or a sigh… and without fear, I play on-top. The first layer could be the bass part, or the drum? --or maybe you lead in with the melody? Whatever it is, it sets the rhythm… and the rest is play with that rhythm.

    So then, that first line is the conflict, and the rest of the process is the resolution. It is unconscious; it is instinctual. My desire while painting is to maintain a fluid harmony of brush-strokes, heart-beats, and eye pleasing forms and lines; in a smooth blend of all the colors on my palate. The result is a picture of a muse. 

   Perhaps the process is embodied in the final form. Perhaps the viewer experiences the harmony. Perhaps the way your eye moves around becomes a dance to the song? The viewer is momentarily entranced by the music.  The feminine and organic forms that come across in the paintings are non-specific; different embodiments of my personal aesthetic ideals, moods, and experiences. They become representations of my muses, myself, and the harmonies and beats that we are all moving in time with. 

   The goal that I have in my painting is very simple: I want to make an eye-pleasing picture, that takes you into an amused trance. I do this without being concretely driven by any discourse, instead I simply let my eyes, brush, and mind dance to my abstract musings and ideals.  Unlike art that is attempting to move the viever with discourse, my painting strives to be an escape from the concrete world. Just a sweet little ditty...

Shele 8

bottom of page