
Every time I looked at that chair, it seemed I saw the ghost of her there.
Fine Art and Illustration by Jennifer Long Herrera

Every time I looked at that chair, it seemed I saw the ghost of her there.

In no one will she confide
what treasure lies inside.

Tread water and keep afloat, or that will be all she wrote.

Careful with what you sling
and the change it might bring.
.
.

When I started sketching out the composition for this drawing this morning in pencil I started too small, but was enjoying the feel of the graphite after doing so much ink this month. I kept going a bit longer than I needed to but was actually rather pleased with the result.

I cannot believe I posted this one,
It may be the worst I’ve ever done.
The tea party and band were so misfit,
Not one little girl joined the mosh pit.

Yes, the evening has been spent focused on an ornament.

I fear that what I have to say
Is predictable or cliche,
But those we find to be most wild
May well hide a frightened child.

Once you figure out where you want to be,
following the legend is key.

Once planted, the distrust grew, heart and mind overgrown like kudzu.

For the imposition of the ashes we kneel, pray for peace, and hope to heal.