Exceptional Moments are where the opioid of quality lives.
Tethered together by long strings of sadness, daily existence
requires stimulation to succeed.
There has to be a door to everything that this life is
When abstraction is sound I can live,
I can breathe.
Quaking vinyl scratches through depression.
Slashing paint claims my space.
What this life is not is a declaration…
Made by those who
have lost childlike idealism
and try to destroy mine and my place.
Integrity is something held dear, religiously,
by the greatly paranoid
and the plain great.
Separated egos stampede their own feet.
And our oneness gets scrambled alone.
This room is too small.
Growing up fawning in fear without action
eroded the weight of the onlys and the justs.
*Artwork: “Detaché” by Colleen Surprise Jones, 20″ x 16,” acrylic paint on canvas (2020)