Missing & Waving


Sometimes you miss home

Sometimes you can’t go


As I lay, nestled in these mountains

In the green foliage of Spring

Now turned brown into early Winter

I wonder what the waves look like

I wonder if they still crash and retreat

Crash and retreat

Like an exchange of words,

A conversation with the sand


As I wait for snow, for seasons changed

And the temperature drops again

I wonder if the ocean is still blue

I wonder if it turns darker the deeper it goes

And it can go, go and go

Like a rainbow only in hues of blue

Sometimes with a little green


As I close my eyes and smell the rain

And wait for warmth

I wonder if the sand still feels hot

I wonder if the sting still stings and lingers

Kisses grazing and remembering

Like a lover in a thousand of grains

All saying my name


As I sit and wait for summer

And for home

I wonder if I’ll ever return

I wonder if I’ll ever stop missing it

Missing and Missing it

Like a child removed from the womb

I hope to feel the embrace of mother again

Signing Off, TWS

Please visit my page [Paradise Inks] for more alcohol ink works.


Harvest: I am _____

sep 15

Sometimes we forget who we are.

‘I am a person.’

We lose agency and strength.

‘I am strong and in control.’

We start following.

‘I am a leader.’

We start disappearing.

‘I am here.’

Sometimes we need to be reminded.

‘I am. I am. I am.’



This trading card was made during a supervision meeting with my mentor. As I moved towards creating paths and connections with other beings in my field of work I found parts of me were vanishing. I saw parts of myself being molded and manipulated by other blacksmiths who had no experience with the precious metal that was my soul  and mind. I feared falling out of control. I feared not standing my ground. So, as I flipped through a Yoga magazine I stumbled upon this quote. I was reminded that I am the only blacksmith that can melt, mold and recreate me.

Don’t forget that. You’re your own blacksmith,  jeweler and model. You construct your life, you embellish it and you present i to the world. Remember, always remember, that you are. You are. You are. And without you there would be one less beautiful wonder to share with the world.

Signing off,  TWS



Autumn Passed



It rained

It shined

It rained

It rained

You never came

As the soil saturates

and my roots are soaking wet

I am reminded of the promises you made


In August, September and October

the seasons changed

and you never came

I wonder if you still remember

You walk by every time

I am rooted here

Wanting to have you near

I thought that you were mine

You turn back to see

I hope that it is me

you turn your back to me

And no hope I see

This poem is a response to the Autumn Affair poem I wrote last year. As I walked past that tree this year, I wondered what it would say to me.

The painting is a four panel, 12 inches tall, alcohol ink painting I made in remembrance of the once flamboyant tree. Please visit my page [Paradise Inks] for more alcohol ink works.

Harvest: Blooming



Seeds I have planted.

A year it took.

Today they bloom, or so I think.

The prettiest of them all,

Bright yet coarse.

They seem ready for the outside world;

In a garden not my own.

A garden owned by a community of troubles.

I bring you my flowers,

I bring you my treasures,

In hopes that it will flourish your own.


This artist’s trading card was made during a meeting on the first week of classes. My fellow Expressive Artists created what they brought to their sophomore year or what they hoped to bring. I brought a flower in a garden, from seeds of knowledge I had picked the previous semester. I brought one beautiful flower eager to spread its joy, it’s beauty and its strength.

Signing Off, TWS

Voices in the Wind

She likes the noise of the wind.

Like voices in her head.

The slow moaning of souls that are dead.

She opens her window in the hopes for more.

When life is still she finds a way to run from home.

She forces herself to flow.

To become the things she has called her own.

When the turbulent spirals of nature’s breath collide they call her their dear child.

She welcomes the sounds, she welcomes the screams.

She wonders if her soul will ever become part of the wind.

Signing off, TWS

Desert, Ocean & Bacteria


Desert: Crooked pieces. It is the end, it is Eve.

Ocean: I am torn, I am less built more worn. I am Eve on the eve of the exile in Eden.

Desert: I am first, there is nothing but dirt and sand. I am first, There is nothing in me but dirt and sand.

Ocean: I am a container; though broken and curved, I sail, I move East.

Bacteria: I contain nothing. I am unicellular. I am holding what is left of the woman in Eden.

The piece in the front is Bacteria, the one on the left is Ocean and the one on the right is Desert. These pieces focus on the exile of Eve when she ate the fruit of knowledge. Desert represents the body of Eden as she is being torn down by knowledge, by the realization that she must now go out of paradise. It realizes that Eve is the first woman; that she is new and that knowledge is valuable. Ocean represents the force that drives Eve to continue, to hold herself even though she is being torn. It represents the vessel of the body as that which carries the knowledge, that which seeks truth. Finally, Bacteria is the end of Eve in the physical sense. It represents the end of the physical suffering but also the continuation of that knowledge. The walls that Desert and Ocean had may be down but Bacteria is slowly spreading out. The knowledge in Eve is not lost nor is it stuck, it will keep spreading.

Signing off, TWS

I Am

This is s themed mask for my Expressive Arts class. The main theme of the portfolio is Eve. A more elaborated post of the theme of Eve will be posted some time before December.


I am Nature. I am paradise. I am all in one but not all at once. I walk from season to season, from sundown to sunup. I am feral. I am primitive. I am power. I am knowledge. I am feminine. I am woman. I am Eve.

Signing off, TWS