Not long ago when the leaves began to fall, I realized in life's long day that the sun slipped past the meridian and I had entered my Autumn. Now my shadow is growing longer, a time well used for reflection. A time of Harvest spent by the fire writing. The chill of Autumn is my favorite season, an endless manifest of colors to explore in images. And yet... Words without imagery can fall short painting the picture and imagery without context can fail to tell the story. The pen forms words into thoughts...the prism deconstructs light into spectra; however, few realize the reverse, that same rainbow comes out of the prism fused as White Light. Here imagery and thought intersect. Welcome to the Pen and the Prism Blog.
