I was moved to write that day and this lovely woman gave thanks as it progressed. I think someone called her Lady Gya. I am uncertain if that if that is her name.

I met her a few nights before in my meditation spot with another Portland artist, Chi.

I’ve added to this picture later in the evening, I haven’t seen it since so I don’t know if it’s still there.

If I had paint it would have taken shape as supposed to a speech which now, after observation, I feel to be opposite of what demonstrators are moving towards.

I don’t know what to feel anymore about these gatherings. Had I a home I might not participate at all but I am compelled to speak or whatever it is that I’m doing while in this situation.

PAUSE

Papa, if you can see me from beyond…  Call out to me, tell me, where should my heart be.

For I have already had MY REVOLUTION, so what is my purpose now? And why do I weep.