FOR THE BIRDS

"For the Birds" means something deemed worthless,
like old bread that people toss outside.
The hard bread sat on the lawn because no one knew
that soaking it in egg and milk brought it back to life
by making the best french toast ever.
I thought about all those things that I no longer needed in my life,
those stale crumbs that would hurt the roof of my mouth if I were to take them in.
I thought about the silliness of the world, mostly misguided human behavior.
I thought how I am not a saint, yet trying to be one is a human right.
I thought about how I stumble along the busy highway of life
with loose newspapers blown around my ankles,
somehow wrapped tightly as if I was a cared for racehorse.
I thought, through the wind and confusion,
how the horizon looks good from here!
I thought about how odd we all are and how we must look.
And, I thought about French Toast and how things turn around;
a discarded tire made into a swing.
Suddenly, i accept all these problems that belong to us.
I love that we are imperfect and find passion along the way.
If there were no problems, what would art look like?
There would be no food "for the birds."

For the Birds,  mini-series of 50
framed oil on panel, 2006