There are times when one must accept that one is not going to go on a road trip — of the physical type, anyway — for a while. That is when a trip by poetry can provide what is needed. I went back to Leaves of Grass by Walt Witman and was once again adrenalized by the exuberance and abundance of his spirit. I had this little set of linoleum print scraps sitting on the back burner of the studio, and I discovered that his “Song of the Open Road” felt perfect for these images.
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