A shadow of the artist within the paint does fall,

The hand that guides the paintbrush reacts to beauty’s call,

He paints with simple brush stokes, caressing every space,

Designing and embracing, the shades within the place,

An outdoor painter’s palette falls victim to the frost,

He scavenges each color because of its great cost,

He works through wind and weather perfecting every stroke,

Stumbling through the elements, surrounded by the oak ,

He soon will leave this pasture and head back on to home,

Where he’ll refine the painting and make it all his own.



As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension. I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog. I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ. My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on
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