Wednesday, December 21, 2011


Wallpaper. oil painting ~ Michael Douglas Jones

These walls were papered by the landlord, long before this was my room, and all the tenants here before me never questioned, or presumed, that they could ever change the patterns of the walls, or of the world.

They were held by their surroundings, as sure as if there was no door, for they accepted what was presented and never questioned their décor.

When we look a little closer at the walls surrounding us, we see the seam is slowly lifting, and behind,
 we find
 no wall at all.


  1. my god. no wall at all. my heart stood still.

    but the patterns always change. whether we know it or not. i prefer to know.

  2. I am writing this from a place governed by walls, boundaries and separation. Your last line is so desperately needed here, and so full of hope. Beautiful, beautiful post.

  3. another perfect vignette of absolute truth. all of our illusions that are so necessary to our survival, our getting through, our self-preservation. we know there are no walls, and yet we keep building them all the same.
    i love this.


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