Hard line illustration,
soft sketched imagination.
Inspired red blood
and the quiet passion
that flows visibly
yet so intensely through it.
A blend of reality
and fantasy.
A solid concrete floor
beneath transparent
imagery ceilings,
structurally connected
with fact and fiction
or faction.
Original, yet allegorical.
Mini-stories... with a twist.
Music-less word scores
and mesmerizing mental images,
seeking immediate release
or long-term escape,
which ever comes first.
Mind photos,
burned forever
in black and white
and in color
on the whitest
of non-film paper
and in the bluest corners
of daydreams.
Word sculptures,
shaped by rapid transit impulses
and/or deep organic thoughts
that only a few, if any
may comprehend.
Straightforward knowledge
and carefully crafted metaphors,
yet, powerful exploding
thought fragments,
valued both for idle inspiration
or someday synergy.
Loose brain banter
from deep in gray matter
or close to the surface
heart pulses
and even introspective
soul searches
with sensitivity sparks.
Vision taps
and psychic tips.
Logic loops,
amidst syntax symmetry.
An unholy word order
within rigid rack rhetoric.
A looking back.
A seeking forward.
The constant searching,
on a continuum
of retrospection
and projection,
in rear view mirrors
and crystal balls,
for people and places past,
for what seems now,
for pre-game predictions.
But all,
maybe just ink lines
running in place
like wayward electricity
on flat transmission pages.
All in all,
the make-believe work products
of a semi-skilled wordsmith
stopping...
To see the forest
for the trees.
-John V. LaMotte, Jr.
Night Water Reflections
