Angel

Angel

An angel on a cradle.

like the one in morisot's  painting,

on a summer day like Julie daydream in Morisot's  painting.

Skipping barely through the garden chasing butterflies like on Morisot's  painting.

Now my mind wonders if she would have cared

if i had shared presence in the canvas in which she was born.

Sad thoughts of hope and wish to have seen this angel with little toddler feet. And scribble mud of her chin.

How my eyes see joy to the sky's like cute soprice.

From a artist coloring in tiny coloring books to now becoming the canvas and herself the brush

and now art.

A different sketch a day. Bright rainbow today and

listic gothic some days.

 Now a young lady like her mother and two sibling that fallow.

She now portraits angelica kauff but  no man nor presence

of a loving friend in dear and clear fatherly delay.

Now with no time to share reminds my thought to a vision of famous ms leo Carrington but our angelica was the real surrealist. Sure and realistic a magma at present time. Living me with the pass of Eugene maret. in canvas with daughter. But the feeling of inscribleling the pass to fulfill empty spaces to fill. And allusion of decorating the now.  

Drowning in hopes of sorrow like old man on van Gogh's brush. That seems to hold and stick like lonequisote threshold for eternity. And all i imagine is a reality

to wish i was there when she ran around like kind mit taube. A fresh sketch of Picasso's pass. But now not so little girl with blue jersey on canvas now feeling self thought and inspired by her nature with hopes of joy but to never return feeling alone.  only sees her self portrait like the quote drowning in sorrow but bastards learn how to swim.

So fast to run and now frees freedom. To a new border of elite like the famous frida kahlo. She's know dream or nightmare she's reality.

To a daughter by heart

Joey D.♿