"Pasadena Bridge" by Belinda Del Pesco

Image reposted with the permission of the artist. Learn more about Belinda Del Pesco and her artwork at her website or blog. I previously wrote about two other works by Del Pesco on this blog, Sleep and She Never Liked Dresses, and just had to come back for more. I love how her images just dance up to edge of surrealism, but don't quite cross over. 

The bridge stands splendid, a marvel to behold, towering over a throng of colorful subjects. The tallest trees raise their green heads in greeting. Purple grasses wiggle, fiery leaves spill out into open spaces, while red pedals peek out of dark and distant corners to feel the sun. As we reach the pinnacle, a great cloud blooms above the grand bridge's altar like a white rose; a hypnotic, floral queen. 

"She Never Liked Dresses" by Belinda Del Pesco

Image reposted with the permission of the artist. Learn more about Belinda Del Pesco and her artwork at her website here.

...and it was just as well since she preferred to not be leered at like a piece of steak to be gnawed on. This particular dress wasn't so bad. With its collar and belt, it wore a bit more like a shirt and loose slacks, and worked well with her simple, easy-to-care-for haircut. Not to say she was a tomboy, for certainly she could never be mistaken for a boy. Just feminine in her own way, on her own terms. A flower over the ear, delicate hands, and a curvaceous figure, subtly emphasized by the way she walked. Never noticed by the lowest-common-denominator, but always loved for who she really was, and therefore happy in the most profound sense of the word.

"Sleep" by Belinda Del Pesco

Image reposted with the permission of the artist. Learn more about Belinda Del Pesco and her artwork at her website here.

She's asleep and alive, her head laid on the pillow like an explosion, like fireworks. In her unconscious mind she's standing in the yellow dessert, and hairy, black beasties with curly tails scurry behind her. She gazes to the east, one hand caresses her heart while the other covers her stomach. What is she looking at? It feels so profound, so beautiful, so very much the answer we are all looking for, but it's blurry and shrinking, slipping away into the distance faster than she can breath. And in the morning even more of the dream will be forgotten because, after all, that's what dreams do.