| Author: | Joseph Anthony Russo | ISBN: | 9781426988622 |
| Publisher: | Trafford Publishing | Publication: | September 27, 2011 |
| Imprint: | Trafford Publishing | Language: | English |
| Author: | Joseph Anthony Russo |
| ISBN: | 9781426988622 |
| Publisher: | Trafford Publishing |
| Publication: | September 27, 2011 |
| Imprint: | Trafford Publishing |
| Language: | English |
In my younger days I was content to consider myself a mosaic artist and designer, stringing together rows of glass cubes to form textural two-dimensional surfaces that potentially can last forever. And while I placed myself in the forefront of all this creativity, my wife was placed safely in the background. But if truth were told I was the one in the background, because she created our home and my support. Today I consider myself a word artist stringing toger rows of syllables much like a composer stringing a line of musical notation for drama and effect, to form a tapestry of my wife in aspiritual dimension that is distant and close and forever. I never was creative at expressingmy thanks to my wife; I never even outwardly shared with her the title of these rudimentary pages. *au pic TO MY WIFE, MARJORIE I write to keep open the ear and eye of my heart, to strain to hear your voice and see your face; through the silence of God, the distance between us, and the nearness felt within my heart.
In my younger days I was content to consider myself a mosaic artist and designer, stringing together rows of glass cubes to form textural two-dimensional surfaces that potentially can last forever. And while I placed myself in the forefront of all this creativity, my wife was placed safely in the background. But if truth were told I was the one in the background, because she created our home and my support. Today I consider myself a word artist stringing toger rows of syllables much like a composer stringing a line of musical notation for drama and effect, to form a tapestry of my wife in aspiritual dimension that is distant and close and forever. I never was creative at expressingmy thanks to my wife; I never even outwardly shared with her the title of these rudimentary pages. *au pic TO MY WIFE, MARJORIE I write to keep open the ear and eye of my heart, to strain to hear your voice and see your face; through the silence of God, the distance between us, and the nearness felt within my heart.
