Fickle

April is a fickle month: she trips a teetering path through trees mad with ticking, tuneful birds, waking butterflies and bees. She dodges scattered earth and rocks behind a plough; sprinkles tender leaves and shoots with showers; spreads green foam through winter’s mud and, in lengthening evening hours, plays with last thrills of light. Kim […]

Frida’s Reality

“I never painted dreams. I painted my own reality.” Frida Kahlo Mexican heat invades each night, pervades the frangible seams and transmutes dreams to nightmares, thickly oiling the barren landscape vivid, livid with pain. Morning arrives again with the promise of reality, a canvas to daub with certainty self-portraits of her truth. Kim M. Russell, […]