A selection from Vagabonds and Sundries
Within the muddle of influences
I listen for my voice.
Extracting myself from all that I was taught
So to be free to remember what I knew.
Do we ever see our own face?
Wipe off the thick make-up of parody
So to be free to see the stunning authenticity.
To think, we might live a lifetime in this skin
But never know who we are.