Art can so often seem like destruction.
Chaos distilled thru creative function.
Breaking & making & breaking again.
Ink & dye & paint, swirling in a din.
Canvas committed in three dimensions.
Portals created burst with intention.
The whirlwind begins to deposit form.
Inspiration’s storm splitting into norms.
Then & there, blankness is chased from flat plane…
Where hearts are seen thru a soul’s windowpane.
L.B.Stowe 