I came across a piece of wood. Not drift, more like a slice that had once been in a pallate gang. It grabbed my attention. So, I grabbed it.
Already sprayed with intermittent azure, I dyed the rest of the bored board, blue. Begining with mandalas I tried to give it a new purpose. A voice.
With displeasure, I sanded away the poignant Thoreau truism. Again, I began to dye… the other side.
There are two sides to every story. The ambiguity of this, yet to be told…