The blood shed, the chains broken, the steps He walked, the Key He remains, the One ,the Only, the stars and sun He set in their paths, the path He leads of mine, the love He has for you, three crosses, eternity, for eternity, He is the Key, His is the vine grafted. Can you see? Do you know? 904.220.2727 Let His path be worn by your feet.
Trees. I love trees. There are always trees. Every time I look at a tree, I can see where it has stretched for the sun, or worn its outer skin. There is often evidence of war within, but likewise, there is often evidence of peace, as well. How like trees we are.
Remember what I was saying about doodles? Apply all thoughts here. Continue on.
This would be much nicer had I taken the time to edit him to his correct spectrum. Eventually. Watch for him. He could be in your future soon.
HAPPY VALENTINES EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!
As I was saying about trees and doodles.... They ran into one another here. It happens frequently, and the poor dears cannot help themselves.
A perch is a perch, and birds often frequent works in progress as often as trees. Now I know you fishing folks know of perch a site differently. Well, keep watching. He's around here somewhere, and is bound to poke his head in sooner or later.
Manatee are gentle on artists as well. They like to swim by and get the sense of the place. Then they slowly move off to their own, or what should be their own, stomping grounds.
Turtles abound everywhere. This one has been living here for awhile. He needs to scoot along.
Trees. By no means full circle either. Refer to previous notes, all of them. Ha-ha-ha. All of them. Not if you don't have time. The cirle of life grows ever larger with the next tree sprouted. Media always spontaneous. Trees never end here.