Washed ashore in the backcountry. The stars of the Emmigrant drip down into our heavenly springs.
Above and below, the cosmos drench our universe in wonder.
Ancient manuscripts written in rings, holding relics from thousands of years past.
Within the sludge, composing the scum and the filth, life reigns supreme...it is where we all began and where we will all end.
The most illuminating window to the world is just waiting to be explored.
Pearly white below the velvet black oblivion.
A looming muse stands tall on the hill, just the skeleton of a beast that once roamed the west.
Watch out, trust no one. Spies are everywhere.
A large crecent moon rolls around our atmosphere as if whispering a long lost tale of our distant beginnings.
The forest murmurs through filtering light and the entrancing breeze.
We are all constructs of our own realities.
I'm not as interested in the stars as I am in the space between them. The clouds only hiding the worlds they float within.
An ode to the fog that pours across the hills of San Franscico.
Just out for a leisurely drive in the rover.
Long ago jungles were mythical temples of the unknown, lost lands oveflowing with riches, sources of omnipotent elixirs, and cursed by deadly demons - all clear-cut in the name of convienience.
Devouring all man-made objects, the pacific marine layer forges inland, sweeping the penninsula within its atmospheric kelp forest.
Forests of the sea blow in the waves and offer a refuge from the deserted ocean floors.
A constant lumbering, perpetually churning behemoth. A distant, long neglected birthplace, sifting through pond slugde till electricity strikes.
The cathedral of the heavens hangs over our city and reminds all who ask to never stop reaching for the stars.
Every once in awhile you have to ask why...but then again, why not.
Knots are an integral structure for life. While they may appear chaotic and seeking resolution they remain stepping stones of creation.
The ice is melting.
Undulating patterns, resonating waves, and the cameoflaging properties of perpetual a-symmetry blanket some of my very first sketchbooks.