The fun thing about being an artist, in part, is never knowing what sort of work is coming in next. Need a t-shirt design? Assistance with public involvement and visualizing landscapes that haven't been built yet? A treasure map?
Please let me know.
Kate Barsotti, email@example.com
A Bird came down the Walk— He did not know I saw— He bit an Angleworm in halves And ate the fellow, raw, And then he drank a Dew From a convenient Grass— And then hopped sidewise to the Wall To let a Beetle pass— He glanced with rapid eyes That hurried all around— They looked like frightened Beads, I thought— He stirred his Velvet Head Like one in danger, Cautious, I offered him a Crumb And he unrolled his feathers And rowed him softer home— Than Oars divide the Ocean, Too silver for a seam— Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon Leap, plashless as they swim.