Nearly three years ago I drew my son. Took me thirty minutes only because I wanted every detail to be remembered. I burned a whole in the original canvas, trying to make him come out of the paper. I wanted to hold him so badly. As I look into those eyes I remember everything and I yearn for the day that I can say, “When you were born nothing could, would, ever keep me from you. You are very special to me and well though your mother is a trollop I did do my best by you, No I do not have gold or silver to give you, no I do not have a mansion or I have not been to the moon. I did write a book that told the truth and never will you have to worry about your Identity for “I” Identify you. My beautiful son. See you soon.
I can do so many wonderful things with my hands. I have always wanted to share this gift and now I have the ability to I truly pray others will join me! Others will cry with the voice of the advent and tell the stories that have been left unsaid. If not for your sake, then for the sake of those that are to come. This is what is known as legacy. The image above is not where my journey began, but it is when the amethyst began to shine its deep dark purple. The perfect light for this traveler.