My life as an artist is chock-full of perks.
One, I’ve been told, is that I don’t work.
At least that’s what my kids always say.
“Him? His head's in the clouds all day.”

I must admit my mind does drift.
If the truth be told, I rely on it
to stay in sync with the clouds floating by
as ideas take shape in my dreamy mind’s eye.

The grandeur of Nature. The human condition.
The corridors of power. War. Religion.
The near or far. The lowly or grand.
All are fair pickings for an artist’s hand.

It is honest work, this art engagé,
though to my kids it looks like play.
Art comes to life with imagination
​as one’s life becomes an artistic creation.​