My Barbaric Yawp

My Barbaric Yawp


I sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world.

~ Walt Whitman


Anger can be released through a primal scream (a barbaric yawp, indeed) or a therapeutic session of delicate china plate smashing. Fortunately, it can also be released through art. Red and angry I am; red and angry is my art today. Anger swirls through me like a hurricane, a black rage envelops me. I am stuck inside the thick black ⚫️ in the lower left collage in this grid. There is almost an exit but not quite. I am trapped against a brick wall, slumped in defeat, and seething. A brighter world, barely visible from my confinement, taunts me. I know this is only a temporary prison, that bright spot exists. That bright spot exists. 




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