My 12/08/25 postcard is a spent flower head clinging to its stem, petals bleached into parchment by cold air and passing days. The leaves sag, textured and worn, yet still hanging on. Processed as a painting, it’s a reminder that beauty doesn’t vanish when the blossom is past its prime; it just changes form.
My 04/01/26 postcard is a small cluster of seed pods hanging from a thin branch,…
My 03/29/26 postcard comes from inside the Kiwanis Cabin at the top of Sandia Crest,…
My 03/28/26 postcard is a lone marcher moving along the edge of Montgomery Park, carrying…
My 03/27/26 postcard is a welded figure sitting quietly in a yard on Kentucky Avenue,…
