...Photos of the art (based on kids I met while there) and not scanned copies, sorry for the poor quality...but at least something to update this site. --I miss Africa.

The sand that torments the oyster

The pain it creates in its womb,

The way the shell lies in the ocean

In the depths of a watery tomb,

The patience, endurance, the virtue

How it is nurtured in this way,

This stranger in its own habitat

And yields day after day,

The way this grain grows with a coating

To become all that it can be,

Then waits quietly in its cradle

Buried underneath the sea…

Thus, it is born—this treasure

Through agony; tempest unfurled,

This is the untold story

This is the secret of the Pearl.

The Faerie

A midnight inspiration--the original photo is my sister Angela.

Christian Soldier

Really haven't done much art this year. This is another old one, from 2003.

An old colored-pencil sketch, done in 2001.

Thine Is the Power

Because...I Need

I hold the hand of Faith because I am blind.

I need her eyes to see for me.

I hold the hand of Courage because I am afraid.

I need her strength to comfort me.

I hold the hand of Love because I am unlovely.

I need her to see past that.

I hold the hand of Confidence because I have none.

I need her trust in me.

I hold the hand of Prayer because my words are inadequate.

I need her eloquence to empower me.

I hold the hand of Wisdom because I am foolish.

I need her insight to preserve my mind.

I hold the hand of God, because with His own,

He holds all there is of me.

Descriptions

Without measure

Without impartiality

Without hypocrisy

Without conditions

Without favoritism

Without ignorance

Without selection

Without boundaries

Without limitations

Without reservations

Without apprehension

Without insecurity

Without doubt

Without time

Without impossibilities

…Within Perfection—Your Love.

Today's Work

After a day with Photoshop, I'm seeing pixels everywhere and masking my friends faces when they talk to me. Argh!

The Art of Spiritual Warfare

Full Possession

A piece in the works...I need to pray for patience to color my art...tried making a star field today.

The Movie on the Screen

The movie on the screen

Reminded me of you

Places we used to go

And things we used to do

A country we both loved

Where fate had had her way

And the sadness on the screen

Brought back pictures of that day.

My People

Art Medium: Oil Pastels

My eyes tell a story

That only I can tell.

Stop for a blink in time

And my story, I will tell.

My people are a people

Made to feel, like you

My children, they are children…

Knowing not what to do.

My father was a peaceful man

My mother has laid to rest

And as the sun rises from the East,

Moving toward the west,

My people seek security

Yet famine claims our land

And on both sides,

Terror reigns

My son, he holds my hand

And asks me what he may eat today

What can I say? The earth is dry

My people are its inhabitants

Yet they know no more than I

We cannot know our future

For years, this has been our curse—

To live on scenic mountains

Then to die with little worth.

But thanks to God…sometimes the rain

Descends to quench the land

Seedlings grow and children know

Someone will hold their hand.

The “Ik”…they are my people

It is I who know them best

Yet I wonder…are we forgotten?

Only you can write the rest.

Coffin Roses

Art Medium: Clay

You didn’t know the time you had left

…or did you?

Had you been shown what was to come

…to prepare you?

Had you already known the conclusion

To the story you’d been told?

And had you foreseen

How your life would unfold?

Had you known the days would pass

And you’d be gone?

Did angels tell you their wings would be

Your future song?

And did you bear the knowledge in your heart

All alone?

All that time that you were smiling

Had you seen your future Home?

If I had been in your place

If I’d known all along

What the future held for me

Then…would I be that strong?

Would I keep on walking

Till the journey had borne me high?

And…would I still trust in God

If He told me I would die?

For Him

Art Medium: Oil Pastels

Dear God, please heal him…take away

The pain he feels inside

Let not his mind confuse him now

The suffering intensify

The hurt has pained his gentle soul

It has caused his spirit to quake

And it has stirred my heart to offer prayer

Because our love’s at stake.

Dear God, please heal him…touch his heart

This world is madness enough

Let him feel your warmth around him

And let him know your love.

Let his eyes shine once again

With the light I once saw there

Hold him in your arms, Dear God

I bring to You this prayer.

Uganda

Medium: Oil Pastels

Uganda…I had never known you before

You were just a stranger to me

Some far-off place I termed “Africa”

Somewhere, across the sea.

Did I know that someday, I’d make you my home?

Did I know that you’d teach me of life?

Did I know that one day, in this book I would pen

What I’d learned from your sacrifice?

Uganda, tonight, I know you; I see

Something I’d never seen before

I embrace you in this moment of time

And each day, I long for more.

You have charmed me, bewitched, and bade me to stay

Amongst the children of your land

What is my future? I cannot know

…whatever God has planned.

But I’ve written a song for you tonight

An ode to your people and earth

And I pray you will prosper; that the tears you have shed

Will be turned to rejoicing and mirth.

Art Medium: Gel Pen, Photoshop When loss is gain When emptiness Is filled with spirit When nakedness Is freedom; a voice To live beyond The threshold of Humanity's pond To grasp a dream That no one sees To know by faith That your realities May be sure treasures They can never know For moths and rust Corrupt their soul... And to find, by giving, That more is gained And, in affliction, Healing is claimed Of mind and heart, Not flesh alone Then this is when You've found your home.

Kampala's Wretched Wonders

You know how they say "Beauty is in the eye of the Beholder?" Art Medium: Oil Pastels

Tell Me Why

Why do we always go and hurt The people we most dearly love? And by our unplanned actions Do consequential stuff? It seems that, unintentionally, We render blows of pain Without foreseeing the results That scar and bruise and maim. Those we care about most deeply Those attached to our hearts Are those who endure the suffering When little trifles start. And, in our unfeeling We simply pass them by Without realizing The sadness in their eyes. If love can be justified If feelings can be told, If emotions rule the stronger part If warmth should not grow cold, Then, why all the misunderstandings That seem to never be enough? And tell me…why do we always go and hurt The people we most dearly love?

A Prayer

Dear God, Give me strength To hold on to You When there is nothing Left for me to do. My body is weak; My spirit is tired Darkness has prevailed Demons have transpired To see me waste away

To claim my deafeat Dear God, rescue me Let me never say, "Retreat!" Help me move ever forward Help me never look back Dear God...through temptation Help me to never lack The faith that I need To live for You The Love that I need To stay faithful and true And in the end, Let it be known, That for you I will stand ...even if it means ALONE.

Starting Over

To dare to try

And know failure is but a trial

A pathway to a different star

And just a longer mile

To dare to dance

Barefoot, splashing in the waves,

In step to a different page of music

To the tune of crazy braves…

To know, in that crucial moment,

That death is but a graduation robe,

A promotion to a higher status

And finally, release from this wretched globe,

These are the lessons given me

On this journey I’ve embarked

They have given deeper meaning

To the beating of my heart.

And, today, where I am standing,

Where my life begins once more,

There are so many dreams to dream

Each one richer than before.

Now, as I close this journal,

Another chapter lies white

And its virgin pages beckon me,

“Look deep in your heart…and write.”

Art Medium: Chalk Pastels

Thoughts from the Tsunami

Theirs is a pain we have never felt. Theirs are tears we have never wept. Theirs are lives we have never known. Theirs, too, are deaths we have never slept.

How can the loss be understood? How can the feeling be described? When everything we know is gone, And everyone we love has died?

The world is far too frigid for feeling It cannot know man’s desperate plight While some spend their days in riotous living, Forgotten others know nothing but night.

Can life be restored and seeds be sown? The winter has killed life from this earth. Only when the world has reawakened, Then, from its womb, will spring new birth.

Why can we not see what lies

beyond today and know

The future—however it is set;

where the right way is to go?

And why can we not know the seasons,

the times that must unfold

For better or for worse…

for years of youth or age of old?

The future sets the time to pass,

and soon time shall no more be

When the sands have all run out,

vanished relentlessly.

Each page in the book will have turned,

a story will be sung

Of castles built on sky-borne dreams;

of battles we have won.

And when man sees what has occurred,

will he ever learn to live?

When the present is our past, what then?

What shall time give?

Shall it run swiftly, then run out

and leave us standing still?

“‘tis but a vapor,” the Psalmist wrote.

‘tis but a sleeping pill.

Because

I hold the hand of Faith because I am blind.

I need her eyes to see for me.

I hold the hand of Courage because I am afraid.

I need her strength to comfort me.

I hold the hand of Love because I am unlovely.

I need her to see past that.

I hold the hand of Confidence because I have none.

I need her trust in me.

I hold the hand of Prayer because my words are inadequate.

I need her eloquence to empower me.

I hold the hand of Wisdom because I am foolish.

I need her insight to preserve me mind.

I hold the hand of God, because with His own,

He holds all there is of me.

Kalastika

Do you know of my beauty?

Do you see it in my eyes?

Look deeper; search for me

And then, you’ll realize.

The world, it soon forgets

The state that mankind once was

But in my home—the mountains—

It will be always this for us.

It will always be this beautiful

In sorrow and in joy

It will always be this moment

Today is what I will enjoy

For when tomorrow comes,

It will bring with it the unknown

To the chambers of my heart

To the threshold of my home.

Art Medium: Oil Pastels

Quick Thought

In life, we pass our minutes, hours, days

We pass our independent ways

Traveling souls, wandering far,

Never realizing where we are

Never stopping to embrace a friend

To taste the rain; see the sunset’s blend

In a quest for all we’re dreaming of,

There is never time to fall in love.

Blanketed

Her gentle arms embracing me,

Like a blanket, softly covers

She stills my fears and calms my tears

My only warmth; my Mother.

Art Medium: Oil Pastels

Remember Me

The skies haven’t changed

They’ve stopped just for me

The scene hasn’t moved

Seems an eternity.

But God has allowed

All time to freeze

He says, “I haven’t forgotten,

So remember Me, please.

Remember My Love,

How it gave you the strength

Remember My Peace

How it gave your hopes length.

Remember My goodness

And know that I’m true

I’ll fulfill My Promise

I’ve not forgotten you.”

Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled

Art Medium: Charcoal, Photoshop

In depths of desperation

In suffering and trial

When our hearts have shattered

And we find it hard to smile

Through the fire and the testing

When we’ve lost what we hold dear

We hear a sweet Voice whisper,

“Let not your heart be troubled; I am here.”

Despite tempest and strong winds

When our walls have crumbled down

It is cold and dark and frightening

There seems to be no hope around

Misery breaks down and threatens

To bring to life our darkest fear

But we hear that sweet Voice whisper,

“Let not your heart be troubled; I am here.”

Oh yes, He is there in the shadow

For it is by His light

That we are able to go on

To walk by faith, not sight.

And no matter how dreadful

May be the hour, day, or year,

That sweet Voice will always whisper,

“Let not your heart be troubled; I am here.”

From the Archives

Once in awhile I stumble on an old poem, penned once upon a time ago...and it brings back bittersweet memories. Like this one... Tonight... Tonight I want you When I can have you not. Time has erased memories Have you... have you forgot? The picture is fading slowly now And with it, the memory of your eyes When will you again speak to me? When will you materialize? Love was once... and is still now, Within my aching heart But when you left my side that day, You tore my soul apart. And tonight... I wish I could see you Will I ever? I don't know Your silence Is speaking to me And I fear it's saying No.

The Letter

Art Medium: Colored Pencils, Chalk Pastels

Dear God, I’ve written many words before

Yet now, I cannot think with rhyme

Perhaps the words are fading fast

With the passing of the time.

If I speak to You, You listen.

Then, listen now and answer me

Leave me not when I am needing

Needing You so desperately.

Dear God, the days are swifter now

I feel my hour is a short while

If You can, let this cup pass…

But if not, Your Will shall be my trial.

And I shall pass this test of courage

The test of standing up to fear

It shall arise but I shall not cower

Because I know that You are near.

And in that day, You’ll give me wisdom

You’ll give me the words to speak

Dear God, You’ll satisfy my conscience

You’ll be my strength when I am weak.

When I am torn down, distressed, oppressed,

When I am alone, none to turn to,

Dear God…then, Your words will love me

And my own words will love You.

You and I

Photography by Machi Yamaguchi, Uganda

Child, think not that you are alone

Think not that I don’t care

Believe only in My Love for you

Trust that I am truly there.

There...in your valleys, your shadows of death,

There...in your Gesthemane

There...in your own Golgatha

There...if you search, you will find Me.

You think you’ve lost a precious love

It’s true—you’ve given it away

But now that you’ve abandoned Self,

I stand here ready to repay.

With arms outstretched, I beckon you

To look upon this cross

The tears you weep, I bleed them too

I feel your torment and loss.

And I long to hold you in my arms,

To wipe away your tears

Sweet Child, cry them no more now

Behold…the light appears.

And Love will reawaken your heart

In time, you’ll start to fly

You’ll know you were never truly alone—

‘Twas always you…and I.

Photography by Robin, Uganda

We cannot know the plight of man

We cannot know their sorrow deep

Till we have walked the paths they’ve trod,

Till we have slept where they do weep.

We cannot know the tears that fall,

We cannot understand at all

Till we have borne their burdens great,

Till we have lived through such a fate.

O foolish men who take no heed

To starving children and mothers’ cries!

Will we not heed the call of these

Until too many fall and die?

God came for all.

Do we come for any?

Or do we simply walk away

Closing our eyes, forgetting still

…remember what you have seen today.