Scratch a Cynic...

...and you will find a broken heart.


He had much to be joyful about. Much to do, staying occupied. Keeping his mind off of it. But also there was sorrow. He had given himself fully; had been so willing to try once more, but to no avail. It was not for lack of effort, but it didn't work out. So he kept moving forward. Hope would no longer keep him afloat. Work would be his passion. He would bury any pain deep within his long hours spent at the drafting table. I will be a success not out of spite, but because I know I can be, I am, better. The will and the drive to move on had taken him this far, and it would take him further.

Wrapped Up

She didn't know what to expect.


She had tossed all of her belongings into a suitcase in a bit of a frenzy. 3 pairs of boots, 2 pairs of jeans (one skinny, dark. another washed, casual.) Countless t-shirts (do they wear t-shirts there?) Her favorite hoody; and finally enough coats to warm not only herself but her neighbors as well. Upon her arrival, cool but comfortable temperatures prevailed. A slight breeze hid her sigh of relief. I'm not out of place, she thought. All is well. Now I can adjust to the easiest part of this journey: learning a new language.

Its always easier to leave, than to be left.

An Overcoat for Warmth

It was cold out. The weather matched his heart.


Burned again, he wandered. Aimlessly at first, without much purpose. Thinking of love lost, what could have been...he ended up in a park. At first he didn't notice the couple. Had he noticed, he would have left. But no, they caught him by surprise. The tenderness in which they regarded each other jarred him out of his own mind. Soft kisses, nuzzling each others' necks. . . god how he missed it. Maybe it wasn't real? He recalled a conversation with his friend:
"Man, your first girlfriend was a real whore. At least its not that bad."
"Well, you get what you pay for."
"You'll do better. Finding the right one is a journey. Hopefully it will pick up when she gets back."
"Hope is a word forlorn to me after the last one."
"There's always hope, my friend."
Well, hope, and clothes. There are always clothes. And beer. Two things that can't break your heart. In the end, maybe it was all in his head.

A Gentleman and a Rabbit

The details made all of the difference.


Plaid pants hemmed up to show an inch of ankle. Bass shoes. A blazer, tailored to fit like armor. He felt confident that his carrot-cuff links were a big enough nod to his habit. But he paid attention to more than his appearance. Indeed the rabbit scoured the newspaper daily, to find antiques in the classifieds, look for new work, anything to stay occupied. Work inspired him, staying busy left him fulfilled. After all, the small things in life made all of the difference.

Pigeon Cardigan

Life throws some unexpected surprises at you.


Sometimes you follow your life path. Then life throws a few obstacles in your way. Sometimes you have to button up your cardigan over your shirt and tie, roll up the slim jeans and take a walk; but don't forget your umbrella. The reason is that you can never be sure when the rain will pour. Or, if you happen to be in Phoenix laying out under a tree and wet semi-solid objects begin falling from the sky, you will find that an umbrella would have been prudent.

Going On

To see the world, one must leave comfort.

Moving onto better things in life. Leaving a past behind her, that she could not longer relate to. She would return changed, with a wider perspective on life. A world view was what she needed, and she would get it by traveling. Nothing to tie her down, including but not limited to family, friends, lovers...she was going on. Farewell, my lovely.

Madras the Elephant

The original from home.


He was a professional out of college. It took hard work to get into the art director job he was in now, but once established, he had complete creative freedom. Passion took him further than his portfolio. It was that very passion that led him to be proud of the clothing he chose to wear. His brightest articles of clothing were not cheaply dyed cotton sold as "madras", but true patches of fabric from India; crafted there and sent to the states. It meant a bit more to him to wear the real thing from his homeland, rather than purchase a mass-produced piece. He thought to himself, "originality is fleeting, always copied...yet, when seen, truly inspirational."

Animal Fashions. Up for 2 more days at IndyInk.
84 S. Broadway-Denver.