Our Peter.  We are so blessed to know him and have him with us at CC.

 A French Maid?  No, it's Miss Donna donning a skeleton.  That's a cranium on her head... definitely not a coffee filter.  Or as Miss Donna would say "caw-fee filter".

 JASON! What were you doing?  

Punching poor Joseph right below his ribcage and sternum!  Poor Joseph.

 The French Maid... um Miss Donna's vertebrae.

 Cassandra in art.

Caleb and Melissa

Below is Douglas' poem for Essentials.  Email me yours and I'll post it too!

black.

Raven black.

With light reflecting off his head as he waits to let his arrow fly.

light.

firelight

that falls upon the dancers who wear feathers upon their head.

water.

rushing water

a fish jumps.

the hawk spots him and swoops down

to the fish's doom

twig.

a twig snaps

the explorer can only wait for his eminent death.

tree.

green tree

the scout accelerates himself up the tree with his coffee brown arms
to reward himself with eggs in a nest.

Douglas B.