Every so often, I feel a weight in my chest that I can only compare to that of the cider presses of the orchard up the dirt road from my childhood home. 862 more words
Tags » Joel Barnett
My seasons change, unlike nature’s season, without warning and before I know it, past-times are gone and I find myself standing in a new place. I have learned that I don’t usually realize I’m in a new season until I vocalize my observation of the changes around me…and then it clicks. 1,136 more words
the restoration of something lost or stolen to its proper owner.
I have been working non-stop lately to build up a series of new paintings for some future shows and the above is a small sample of a completed 30″ x 40″piece titled… 77 more words