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When fog fell over the city, Geia and the goddesses awoke from their slumber. At first tip-toeing softly about, so as not to wake the sleeping, soon gamboling through their streets as if they hadn't danced for decades. The women, in fact, had not danced upon their Earth for thirty-three years. They rejoiced in each others' rhythm and movement, so grateful were they for this night to arrive. Dum-didi-chum-dum, and on and on, till the half-moon met the Earth's horizon. 

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Learn to get in touch with

the silence within yourself and know

that everything in this life has a purpose.

ELISABETH KÜBLER-ROSS

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she keeps her tree on the corner warm 
in the winter months, and cares 
for all things living.

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Street Art Utopia

Crescent Moon Rd.

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She sleeps below the old elm

on the corner, all arms and legs

like a good long morning stretch.

In the early moonlight

she rises, looks about her

and with curious, smiling eyes

she dawdled up the road, feeling as

refreshed as an angel emerging from the clouds.

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FAMILY LITERACY DAY

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to someone you love ღ

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Oakoak

New Moon

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The angels have left

Without leaving a trace of their fall.

   alone. I am.

   abandoned beneath

   the dark side of the moon -

O black starless gloom!

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To know what you prefer instead of humbly saying Amen to what 

the world tells you you ought to prefer, is to have kept your soul alive.

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ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

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street art by: TASSO

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lOOk closely at this dream...

porch

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The porch ran the width of the big yellow house down the hill. It served as launching pad for superheroes and for private conversations overheard. Yes, it was me, the eavesdropper-detective. I was also the superhero to follow my brother's flight off the edge - I could so do whatever he could! - only to fall flat on my face and lose my first set of teeth.

My childhood would be an incomplete story without the memory of hot summer nights on the big front porch, watching passersby, and the moon, and the colour of dreams as they developed. The porch also served as safe-haven of a sort, the place between where sad, angry people lived, and the world yet full of hope.

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where does an artist see opportunity?...

...The Journey

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Oakoak

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Make your own recovery the first priority in your life.

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ROBIN NORWOOD

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It was another great evening at Winnipeg's finest & funnest underground venue!

Here's the eclectic Chris Carmichael performing at The Cyrk on Friday. enJoy...

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various artists

Another of the chosen 106 most beloved street art

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found

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I found him near the river wringing out his blue towel. He must have dropped it. Not aware that someone was watching, he seemed at peace in that moment. There wasn't a single wrinkle on the water that day. No one would know he went to sleep with ghosts at night and woke up with damp, wrinkled skin every morning.

He flung the wet towel across his shoulder and stared up at the sky, as blue as any sky I'd ever seen. I wanted to move closer. I wanted to hold him near, to love him close. But I couldn't. So I remained standing there, staring at his pack-horse shoulders, the wheat coloured hair caught in the nape of his neck, watching him watch the sky.

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