These things we are... These things we bounce between

Like good and bad, like home and hell. That current in our bones.

Between them, we lay floating. The steel trap's always near.

And while we float, we watch the fight but do not dare to bet.

We're always too damn busy and we're always too damn scared.

We think that things just happen. Hey, no one has control!

So we let go of the important part: remember? it's our play.

And here's the thing: we're all of it.

The hole, the void, the hunger,

the head, the heart, the loins,

the knife and the dead weight, and even the damn trap.

We're talent and producer. We're sound and music sheet.

The rhythm in the writing.

(Even when it's broken and there's no rhythm, no rhyme,

and nothing seems to mean a thing anymore. Banana.)

But among all the chaos, the song is always there.

And all along the steps, there's always the Red Thread.

The thing that binds and lifts us, the saviour and the noose.

So follow it and tug it and hold it in your teeth.

The important part is not what is, but where we go with it.

And yeah, we're just dumb matter, and we are afraid and cold.

But we also have the spark, the mind, the soul, the wings.

So we may be in the gutter.

But we will be the sun.

These things we fear... These things we try to avoid. Like death or plague or change (itself a little death.) We try to run from them and fail to realize they're ours. They're here. They're us.

(The tragic chorus goes:)

We die a thousand deaths and die again tonight.

And so, we fear, we stall. We avoid a little death.

We never realize, that fear? It's less than real.

And here the secret lies: unless we die and die, and die and die and die?

We'll never grow beyond. We cannot be reborn.

(The eternal chorus goes:)

We die a thousand deaths and die again tonight.

So answer from the stage, cause this life is your play:

"Oh yeah, sure, I might die. If I jump from the cliff, I'll be like Wile E. C.

... But then again, who knows? That death might not be real.

For one thing I do know:

I know, tomorrow morn, I'll rise.

And jump again."

We die a thousand deaths so we can live anew.

These things we chase... These things we learn to need, they come for us with ties, with weights and snares and traps.

We want them anyway. We take them so they’ll plug that black hole in our heads, the void in our hearts, the hunger in our loins.

We take them, and they drink us. They bind us to the ground. And once they have us bound, they kill us with our wants.

These things we chase are us. That “us” we think we want.

Until the want eats all.

And we no longer hunt.

Nor get. Nor fly. Nor live.

If you've seen my work before (and if not, hey. Welcome. Hope you enjoy the ride), you've probably realized a couple things by now. First, I really like drawing animals in general and birds in particular. Second, I try to put a bit of meaning and a story into most pieces. However, I rarely go deep into what's behind a given piece. This is me trying to shed some light on my thought process while I conceived, painted and refined the pieces in this collection. I hope it is somewhat useful, a bit fun, and mostly readable. And if you get to the end and you have any questions, comments, praise or critiques, let me hear them.