Drawing work in progress by Thomas J Nixon

The central figure  ; The desire for keeping the most important detail till last has been superseded by my baser nature being a son of a gun . Desire fades deep into the texture of old wool carpet while autumn crickets chirp on  sidelines of purple blue shadows . In the blaze of late angled  sunshine our world depends on earth .  

Drawing work in progress by Thomas J Nixon

The zephyrs wings still need color . The waters I created are Winslow Homer inspired . There are no sharks . The shell is our ship .  Our  limbs are still ambulatory  and intact  . My arms are ready to hold you and your heart forever . The flowers I have will always be yours . How we got on the  planet is of no importance . Stardust crashing through the universe . The probability  of our ever meeting in the first place is astronomical   .

Drawing work in progress by Thomas J Nixon

Opportunity arose and by chance we grabbed hold and road it to the possibilities of our  tomorrows . Through the waters we swim while flowing towards the shinny  sea . In spirit together forever on an island united . 

A drawing art work in progress by Thomas J Nixon

Today I give you a sky of blue for the Zephyrs to fly through . The Zephyrs winds  winds will hasten your arrival to the shore . At the waters edge I wait to behold your beauty and take care of you . I will always give you my flowers even when the fires cool down . You will always allow me to rest my head on your strong and warm chest . I began to hear Respighis Birth of Venus softly from the distant violin  strings .

A drawing work in progress by Thomas J Nixon

My inner dragons rear their monster heads escaping the egg like skin of my body . A close look at my sense of self reveals much need to tame these released dragons and lasso them back into self and lay at rest. Inside of me at rest after exposing themselves much to the fears of loved ones around me for now . I beg forgiveness and express deep felt remorse with the promise to do better while understanding the human conditions that make us and my loved ones us . I love you

the baggage  of my being  amounts to numbers counted  and fed back to the universe of as yet un- counted .

Yesterdays plans fade into todays shadows  sliding  eastward across roadways crashing into tomorrows  abrupt end to the finite  nothingness of demise .