There’s an artist who lives in the pasture,

she has been working as an artist for some time,

she does not have a day job.

She works alone, and at night,

does not have an agent, or a Facebook Page,

she works quietly, her work is only visible when

there is dew or mist, and the sun comes out, she uses

natural and recycled fabric, does not create waste or pollution,

and almost every day her work is destroyed,

by wind or rain or bugs crashing through.

She does not complain about the tortured life of the

artist, or write about her suffering and unappreciated life,

she does not know how to whine or complain.

She works every night, I have never seen

her, perhaps never will, her studio moves almost every

day.