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It has been strange reading up on composition & color arrangements..etc, etc. I've always just thrown color & arrangements on to a page with intuition. It is good to learn the terms of art. Thinking about art consciencely seems a bit strange, but it is good to know WHY something is or isn't working & not just "feel" it.

Right now I'm sketching some ideas for a concept I've been mulling around my head. The idea is "There were no guns in Dresden."

Here's a couple of things I jotted down in my brainstorming yesterday.

-"She was dressed in the light of Dresden by night;
She was washed in the warmth of the flames.
She was twisted inside like the sparks of the fires
As she danced in the volatile rain.

She came without warning, embers by morning -
A love of enlivening rage.
A love for another, squandered & smothered
And buried the American way."

And one a bit darker

-"If there were justice in Dresden
Why do we still light these candles?
How can fire still be our friend?
If the essence of our longing
Is contained within our burning
How can we live in the flame?

Two ribbons like ink stamped
Crimson in the books of our learning.
One from smoke & ashes
Smell of soot seared into memory,
And one from this dripping wrist
That once laced fingers in your hand.

If there were jusice in Dresden
Why is faith still the question,
And the answer a line drawn in fear?
If the war was really over,
And the spoils to the victor
How then do we still light this space-

Like a star burning inward, imploding,
collapsing, coupounding it's state.
Folded flags for the widows;
To those burned, the wind taking
And gracing newfound freedom.
No boundary for the victem of mistakes."

Just some random poetic excrement.

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