Cold Blue Steel
The days are short in mid December. You have to chase light, what little of it is left to catch. But without sun there is drama, a pull to water […]
The days are short in mid December. You have to chase light, what little of it is left to catch. But without sun there is drama, a pull to water […]
When I was a kid growing up in a small Michigan farming community, I used to love the sound of the train running through town. You could hear the whistle
Welcome to the creative playground of Image, Sculpture, Verse. I live in a river town nestled in the Chugach Mountain Range of Southcentral Alaska.
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