Patternsofchaotica

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We are almost half way there! Thank you so much to all our donors! We appreciate your support and your encouragement! Maybe you will see us out on the trails soon!

Donate to Support Our Journey to Better Health with Bicycles, organized by Jennifer Orm Seager Spence My husband and I live in a wonderful small community. We are … Jennifer Orm Seager Spence needs your support for Support Our Journey to Better Health with Bicycles

Bloom among doom.

Cold and calculating, they who become catatonic. Lost empathy for and never had before, kind eyes can lie, but they never let go of the truth. We keep it there among the undergrowth of disease that haunts our being. Taste in the backs of our throats, the loss that has become my role. No turning away from what we know now. Crawl to entropy. Gasp last breath to set the agreement. Finality it seems was always on my terms. I choose to live my life in stark contrast to the faded glory of yester-year.

I am an artist. Whether I like it or not. Art helped to heal me and is now a part of me, like scar tissue over and old wound. Loved by those who know me, hated by those who don't. Often at odds with myself and just as often inspired by my own oddness. I try to expand on my virtues and quiet the inner voices that constantly chide me. I reach to learn and to grow beyond my mistakes. Often relying on the encouragement given to me by a precious few.

Old dream of a forgotten God.

Along the wailing wall.

He had plans. His dreams unrealized, he drifted aimlessly throughout his final years.

Trying to revive some old drawings.