The ravenous artist

This studio inspires in me want for an afternoon spent wrapped in its charms.

A Corner of William Merritt Chase's Studio

Love’s toll

I’m not able to conceive of it and still I think of little else,
but then it is no more than infatuation for my love is no more than coloured lights.
Ever fleeting rainbows or distant Auroras.
I tell you I cannot imagine our futures and yet I hold no dream dearer for you are music and magic,
but not love for to me it is as miracle for the nonbeliever.
Reduced to falling frogs and water for wine.
You laugh at my foolishness holding me above paradise and time in that place of eternal bloom.
I grip tight terrified you will let go before I’m able to master the wings your love has allowed me.

All is before you.

My love and care,

Simone.