soul

i have never felt so exhausted. to the utter core of my being. my skin and bones and fat and cells are pealed away. my soul pulses. and keeps me going on. creating. from the inside out. from that pulsing soul. nothing in my way. not even myself. and although i am numb on the surface, i am breathing below. deep breaths. steady and life giving. i feel so alive. i am alive. my soul is alive. i have found my soul.

cry.

please. fight for me.

breakup.

i could be everything,
and you will find the nothing.
and i gave you everything,
while you leave me nothing.
and if regret was an ocean,
i would drown in its water.
the pill to swallow is loving a regret.
or to love and to regret.

me, you, him

i wear his t-shit.
and it smells like him.
but i speak true to you.
and dream of you.

Love Now. Love Later.

I want to be impressed.
Someone to bring me to the light.
Show me magic hasn't dissapeared.
The type of thing that pushes back my hair with the back of their hand.
Looks into my eyes and searches for more.
Goes out of their way.
A beautiful, life saving surprise.
Someone to want me.
Around.
I sometimes feel a heavy burden.
Keeping everything alive in a lonely place.
While I am just trying to breath.
and take the next step.
Growing and succeeding and overcomming.
Sometimes i feel like holding my breath.
and waiting for the light.
The dark light.
and never taking the next step.
Just staying in time.
A simple place.
I wish for a simple place.
For love not to hurt like it does.
And tug at my insides.

Edge.

My mother says i have an edge.
That i can make people feel uncomfortable.
That i should be more gentle.
Kinder with my words.
But i have an edge for a reason.

Love

I know i love. I love to the fullest.
And everything i do. I do passionately.
Or i do not do at all.

Purpose

The bird flying over the field is not concerned with the fence posts beneath her.

To be excited.
To be driven.
To be passionate.
To have meaning.
To have direction.
To endure struggles.
To conquer oneself.
To have purpose.

I am an artist.
Nothing stands in my way.

past vs. present

frustrated

I am extremely frustrated.
I believe i am frustrated with society.
with human nature in the 21st century.
frustrated with myself
with my creative voice.
with the quality of my final product.
where is the understanding?
since when do i not make sense? (since always)
in accordance to others:
its too this
too that
more craft
more value
add and
subtract (according to others)

but all i do is
subtract
from myself.
from my creative voice.
from my style and message
for the greater quality of the final product.

is there such thing as a final product? (how bout work in progress)

a powerful potential pulls at me.
my calling.
i sometimes forget this.
and when i do.
whiplash
my heart sets right on track.
a long endless highway of ambition.
a drive to create. (and then make a difference)

but i am so frustrated.

Inside Out

i want to mess up everything. tear down the walls. scream loud in the new born space. at the top of my never failing lungs. until my voices' echo is too loud to bear. and i am free. free of self confinement. reflection upon reflection. listening to the inside of myself. my skin parting for my mouth. usually pinned shut. not quite anymore. the suffering escapes. bottle upon bottle of fermented poison inside. a substance of my past. beautiful enough to attract and suspend. a burden i drag behind me. my insides falling out on the floor. as i scream my face off. i dissemble and break apart. first the walls, then the room, then myself. a colorful representation. a repeat of the inside i have contained for so long.

I love the girls but

I forgot how much i enjoyed the company of myself

When the girls came in at intervals with bags of heels and glitter
I remembered how honest my life is
Raw and messy

When the girls chattered over pizza and chardonnay
I remembered how beautiful silence is
Serene and life giving

It took hours to wake up
to get dressed
to eat
to fall asleep
I remembered how simple my day is
Ritualistic and simple


Loneliness is rather blissful. Never boring.
Maybe empty.
but empty with potential.
and purpose.

complementary

i thoroughly love art school.
(thank you david shrigley)

A Night in the House in the Woods

i arrived late to my father's empty house.
the car door echoed into the crisp autumn air.
shadows fell across my crooked path to the door.
the house was ghostly silent from the outside in.
a quiet i forgot existed.
but it was the night i took the music box apart.
the one my Nana {rip} would keep under her coffee table.
the slender screws fell into my hand as i disassemble the object.
i craved to hear its melody once more.
to break the silence; connect with my past.
a feeling that brings a human alive.
the dust gathered on my fingers.
the twist knob spun freely.
the music began to wine.
it slowly began telling a story.
a princess waiting for her prince.
the castles mote. the white horse.
a now haunting melody of childhood.
and it was the same night i found my parents wedding album.
my mother's smile glistened.
and my father looked so proud.
so put together.
my beautiful family.
an album of ghosts.
i could feel my blood run cold.
bitter.
and the night became alive.
the coyotes never stopped chattering.
the memories never stopped spinning.
the music box wining on.
all night.

Fear

our biggest fear as human beings
is taking the risk
to truly be


alive

lately.

at night.
when things are dim.
and my mind is quiet.
i miss You.
terribly.
and it draws me to tears.
and the inside of me reaches outward.
grasping for Your presence.

i become scared of life.
scared of myself.
like i am too far away.
from everything.
the distance swells.
then blackout.

i rarely dream.
i just fall.
and in these moments.
i become myself.
i become alive.

Note VII

sometimes i think too much. think too much out loud.
or maybe i am just talking. talking to the wrong person.
would you listen?
i have so much to say.

i attempt to put my past together. my life.
each piece that slides together. becomes more of me.
i grow. as i shrink.
and shrivel. i become more real.
and only You would understand.
or have the chance to understand.
You are so much.
so much of me.

Note VI

i know You are out there.
i can feel You.

and when the living sleep
i relive our memories.

paper heart

your cold metal paper punch executes small wholes from my delicate heart. the pieces sink to the floor; the red shag rug. i am not empty. i am not whole. others can see through these holes. they see themselves.

Letter

Dear Catherine,

I love you more than anyone in the world. You are my baby sister; my other half. Make mum happy- for i cannot. Remind dad that you will never leave him. Know i am always with you. Not physically; but if you close your eyes tight enough, i am there, with you, in the deepest part of your head (in all of your memories.) Thats were i find you when things get hard. Keep being happy. You are my hope in life. Dont be afraid. You will do great!

Your Sister.

back to the city

my bitter world
filled with bitter words.
sticking to my skin, cluttering my sight, inducing my pain, controlling my breathing, stiffening my lips, slowing my stride,
as i move through time.



i wonder...
if i remove them,
will i remove myself?

Here

My emotions are strong here. Stronger than they should be. Overwhelming actually. I can barely function sometimes.

The problem begins when I wake up. I still do not recognize this place as my dwelling, my home. It is too safe, too simple; therefore unrecognizable.

My home here is in my work. When i am busy, i am comfortable. When i am not, i become stagnant. I rot away at myself, chewing apart my desires and impulses. My missing spots hurt and ache and fester.

I begin to run. Through every part of my mind. I visit places i shouldn't, and tear into wounds that have scabbed over. I question if this is my minds way of reaching for creativity; the constant stretch. Here, we are asked to think deeper. This is my deeper. This dark place. A place filled with anger, frustration, and sadness.

But things will grow here; beautiful things. The ground is saturated with nutrients. It is my bodies secret garden, this painful place. And from my struggles, grow my strengths. It is who i am, way deep down. I am a pile of hurt.

Creative and lonely.

right track

I believe I am on the right track.

king

you act as though you are a king.
well i was born a queen.

Should vs. Shouldn't

My baby sister started her first day of her senior year yesterday. I hope she learns what she should, and does what she shouldn't. I don't mean this in a terrible way, but in a very real way. Don't be afraid to mess up. One of my professors told me, "Making mistakes is the fastest way to perfection."- Morgan Kennedy



CLASS RULES “10 RULES FOR STUDENTS” by John Cage

Rule One - Find a place you trust. Then try trusting it for a while.
Rule Two - Pull everything out of your teacher.
Rule Three - Pull everything out of your fellow students.
Rule Four- Consider everything an experiment.
Rule Five- Be Self-Disciplined. This means finding someone wise or smart and choosing to follow them. To be disciplined is to follow in a good way. To be self-disciplined is to follow in a better way.
Rule Six- Follow the leader. Nothing is a mistake. There is no win and fail. There is only making!
Rule Seven- Work. If you work; it will lead to something. It is the people who work all of the time who eventually catch onto things.
Rule Eight- Do not try to create and analyze at the same time. They are different processes.
Rule Nine- Be happy whenever you can manage it. Enjoy yourself. It is lighter than you think.
Rule Ten- Leave room for the "X" qualities. Break all the rules, even your own rules.

I have been taught so far to always question. Ask a lot of whys? and hows? Always think. And then think deeper. Use your imagination and be aware of where you are in space. Do what you are passionate about, and work at it. Always be true to your soul and never hold your head higher than your heart.

Vincent Van Gogh once said "What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything."

First Week

"Ghosts seem harder to please than we are; it is as though they haunted for haunting’s sake -- much as we relive, brood, and smoulder over our pasts." Elizabeth Bowen

i can feel these ghosts returning.
they have found me.

Playing House

I feel like a little girl playing house.


I have my little house
my little plants
my little cups and little spoon.
I sleep in a little bed
and have a little closet.
I go to work in a big city
with big sounds
and big people.
I walk on a big street
to a big school
to meet big people.
Then i take my big work
and go back to my little house.
I work and work and work and call all of the children to make sure they are eating their vegetables and talking to God.

Be Courageous...

cour·age

/ˈkɜrɪdʒ, ˈkʌr-/ Show Spelled

–noun

the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery.
c.1300 "heart" which remains a common metaphor for inner strength

Christopher Robin once said to Pooh:

"Promise me you'll always remember: Your braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."

I'm feeling a little bit small. I almost wish I could be rocked back and forth in mums rocking chair. I can hear the creaking. And I remember how precious the dim light felt as my eyes fell back to sleep. You never let me go. Not until my dreams began. Then you just watched. I love you mum. Happy Birthday!

MIAD

here i am.
my roots finally digging into solid ground.
i am growing.

hot water

it is now august.
i can feel it in my blood like hot water in a kettle.
can you hear the whistle?
a sign of pressure and urgency
so dim yet so intense.
its vibe taking up space
traveling selfishly along airwaves.
then growing
and spreading
the whistle.
yelling.
its pitch clenching the air.
the sweet august air
strangling the humid mess
until rain falls from
baby clouds filled with emotion.
the kettle shakes and quivers.
and then boiling over.
left unattended
hot water everywhere.

You

Your thoughts, when spoken, mean everything.

Note V

I will die a martyr
before i die your saint
I will keep my own secrets
and heal my own wounds
I dont need you.

change is soon.

I know so much.
Do not belittle me.
Listen to me long enough and i make sense.
My mistakes are among my many gems.
I hold them dear.

I capture each and ever tear.
Around my neck you must see.
This journey he has made for me.
I fret and fear for change is near.

The universe cradles, swoons, and comforts me.
She knows my heart and has seen my soul.
Change is soon.
Change is soon.

Note IV

The time has come again
The flowers uproot and run
The heat is damp and shallow
The sun spins farther away
The time has come again

Not for long.

im falling off of this planet.

this dirty spoiled piece of meat.

all the flies buzzing around.

spreading rumors with their tiny, useless feet.

im falling into my own world.

im taking the daisy crown he made me.

i will be the queen of my kingdom.

i will find peace and beauty and be free.

im not going to do this anymore.

all the times you let me down.
im not going to listen to the mean words.

there will be no more sadness no more frown.

i hope you can handle it.

on your own without your crutch.
after twenty-three useless years.
you stole two of mine, way too much.

but if you cant.

i wont know.
i wont be here.

Am

I am reckless.
I am compassionate.
I am bitter.
I am a lover.
I am a stranger.
I am an artist.
I am stubborn.
I am unstable.
I am a gypsy.
I am a recluse.
I am a runner.
I am a secret.
I am yellow.

My magic has never been stronger.
Hold still my dear.
Now is your time.

Lessons

You must stand tall
despite the burden on your back
You must fight for oneself
defend only your heart
Love without fear
for love has no limit
Never regret time spent
for time is short
Do what you must to escape

spider

it has been a long time
so much has happened
a spider web after a rain fall
tortured and heavy
yet delicate and complicated
its purpose is worn
yet it glistens and shines
in the spider's eyes
she calls it home
the rest call it a mess
time will be her only test

Path.

can i take those steps alone?
those steps i know i can take.
on the path i know is there?
the path i have created in dreams.
will my shadows follow me?
walking ghosts behind me.
can i win?
against those ghosts.
can i go towards that place?
on my very own path?

My dad says, "Ready to move on?"

Tomorrow is the last monday of high school.

chinese

its a beautiful thing when your mother takes your order for chinese food at four in the afternoon when your half asleep and naked under your downy comforter. when you wake up it magically waits at the table, still warm.

Note III

please don't ask questions. i wont answer them.
truthfully.
understand i cannot be what you want. what you need.
entirely.

know this.

when we talk. if we do. i am yours.
but only then.

i am sorry.
but sorry is a weak word.
and we are a strong thought.

remember to dream. always dream

my love.

like you always have.
because i still do.


and dreams dont have to hurt like life does.

removed.

dont hold me to these words for tomorrow they will change.
my brain is like the bottom of the cereal bowl. soggy, left over, mush.
it wont produce anything pretty. or anything with a value.
it wont stop spinning. i walk in circles.
around my house, and bedroom, and bed.
in the sheets i toss and turn and spin and wind.
like a batter about to throw his pitch.
except i never let go of the ball.
the ball is heavy.
my words are all caught up somewhere again.
i remember this feeling.
and now i just want to be alone.
to remove myself from the world i dont understand.
and once im removed i will write pretty songs.
and pretty pictures i will paint.
once again i will be pretty.
once i am removed.
the mirrors maybe then wont be so disgusting.
and my feet wont hurt so much.
from all the walking. all the running.
my mind might not be so soggy.
and i will be okay.
will i be okay?


p.s. if your worried about me...maybe you should be. (refer to line 1)

sketch I

feeling sketchy...

ensenada, mexico

Have you seen your Jezebel?
You can blame her if it makes you feel whole. You can tear down the walls of her heart and destroy her soul. You can puncture holes in her skin and curse your sword into her side. The beauty will run down your hands and stain your accusing lips.


She knows it heals you. She knows in a way no one knows. She will still cradle you in the night if you call her name. You know she will not tell a soul, for her price is higher than yours. She will take your pain and make it her own. She will carry it. She has already for so long.
Have you seen Jezebel?

catalina islands III

dare i write to you?
dare i reach for your grip on my naked soul?
dare i let you stay within myself?
all of your treasures you share;
unforgiving and demanding.
i still crave your habits;
my unacceptable feelings haunt these days.
would you find comfort in knowing these things?
inside of me,
hope remains.
a hope that breaks hearts
and weakens those who sip the poison.

these are neither lies nor truths. these are feelings, as pure as they come. i empty my heart into these words and remember all of you - aligning in my mind.

catalina islands II

i remember the night i could not find the moon. how my heart tore in two. the tears streaked my face. deep inside my being, the agony of the unsure burned. the pain real, yet life giving. a terrible drive to stay true. stay true. stay true.

catalina islands I

will my heart always remain broken? previous lovers continue to pace my spinning mind. i told the truth and sorted out the life i live, yet my feelings still tangle and imprison me. each part of me remembers each one of you. not a single space my own. in hopes these feelings fade, i continue. i listen the best i can to my heart and pray for peace and strength .

A Night in the Art Room

The light from outside has withered.
My mind has gone home with the school children.
Only my imagination remains, crafting a newborn image.
One the world has yet to see.
I stand before my canvas with pride.
My paintbrush held victoriously above my head.
Stained to my hands is determination.
all of the Yellows.
My body aches from self exhaustion.
Resiliently my eyes pace back and forth.
Searching for error.
I step back, feeling my feet for the first time.
My complexion lacks life.
All that i have had is now in front of me.
My lungs catch the air around me.
Poisoned with pottery dust and turpentine.
The clock ticks and the bulbs hum.

http://www.kingsford.org/khsweb/0910news/asa_march/index.htm

it might have been a thursday.

Now the rain finally falls. Cold but sweet. Providing, nuturing, growing, new places. Life giving and precious. The cold rain falls.
My feet are soaked. The damp moisture follows me around. In and out of class, back and forth to home, and to you.
We walk hand in hand. Slower than before. Our connection is deeper and farther than it has been previous. The past is still around through.
(falling like cold rain.)
Today i skipped. Made love. Ignored my oils. One love over another.


I miss my oil.

Note II

this is not an explanation.
this is a promise.
there is more to come.


i have not forgotten.

Note I

Sing me to sleep as i lay my head to rest. Help me pretend i will be alright and remind me the world still turns. My mom tells me i have a tortured soul; a rebel heart. But no one knows that here. Except my sister, but she still tries to think the best. So i am thinking of taking a year off and living in the trees, by the ocean. Off of coffee beans and wild fruit and my own skin. Then maybe i'll get it together. Or at least claim something of my own. But i'll probly go to art school and get mixed up with turpentine and dusty charcoal finger paints and have different lovers who mix like the colors on canvas, over lapping and combining. In the end i know it will be a masterpiece.

After this weekend i remember all the reasons why not. You should have sent dead flowers. It would have been the same effect. If you dont grow up, we will never go anywhere. I am sorry we have halted. We have fallen. and now all we can do is crawl towards what we hope is still there, buried beneath the snow and autumn leaves. The seed that was planted that warm august.

I can hear myself swallow. But my heart fails to beat. My coffee stays warm but never my feet.

If you could only see the way he loves me. Then you would understand. But for now you all suffocate, every one of you. Its all or none. Get along damn it. Listen to me. And it would all make sense. But your assumptions are suffocating. All of your assumptions. An evil word with roots deeper then thought. They stay with the mind for sometime. They poison all the time and hard work. For so long i have tried to redeem my self but i continue to live in the shadows of yesterday. and maybe your right. Maybe i have no idea what i am doing. but that is the way i wish to be. A wanderer on a beaten trail. each step my own claim of independence. My very own life blood and body. Just my own and I would be so proud. At least i would be that. But you dont understand. You say you know much more than I, right from wrong. All the yes's line up, and all my no's do too. But maybe i will be okay if you just let me breath with my own lungs.

I am strangled. A strangled soul.
Growing bitter with the chocking weeds. For they take my sunshine and steel my rain. Those jewels that drip from the corner of my eyes. Let me be. Let me find my own home in this mess. The mess, let me remind you, you have created. But thank you, for i like the person i have become. Although you do not. i am alive on my own. more alive then they all know.

I am just a dreamer. Or maybe im on to something.

When the weathers nice. people walk slow. slower than before. the new air lifting their feet.

Charcoal

I read somewhere this week that life is not about finding yourself but rather creating yourself. true fact.

Crimson

wish with your eyelashes, every chance you get.
pretend it doesnt hurt like it does.
dream with your hands and feet.
dont let anyone tell you differently.
your truest passions are more precious than gold.
follow them. let them take you from the heart.
someday i will live in a tree house near the ocean.
my surroundings shall sway me. my peaceful soul.

"Bing" at 11:37

i "bing" searched grass.
it was exhilarating to see all of them.
my long lost lovers.
swaying and smiling.
they miss me just as much as i miss them.
and thats why i love them.
my heart goes out into cyberspace.
while i go back to class.

Lose It

what does it feel like to lose it?

does it feel like when you were little and on the playground
swinging from monkey bars with the other kids
pretending the wood chips were fire
and your hands began to ache and sweat
and then you started to slip?

or does it compare to loosing your first tooth
after biting into an apple, or a piece of toast
that sense of victory
and becoming of oneself?

maybe its like going on vacation
and knowing you forgot your toothbrush when your on the plane?
...
like climbing out of your window at night
and taking a long walk without shoes on
...
like sledding down the biggest hill into traffic
...
or eating the cookie dough with raw eggs




i think i am losing it.

The Sun Shines

a couple nights ago.
i feel like shit, but i think the lace reflects prettily on my brown skin. for a once.
the night feels nice, but the wind outside is disheartening. too bitter for my frail heart.
my bed feels big and empty, but my body still warms the sheets. it still works and runs.
i think of You way too much, but it makes my mind a little more bearable. thank You.

today.
the sun shines. the sky is blue. and clear. the roads are dry. my house is locked. i cant run. so i visit my grandma. and eat lemon pudding.
i dont feel so much like shit anymore.
after eating lemon pudding. and visiting my grandma. and not running. i relax instead. because my house is locked. the roads are still dry. the skys blue. and the sun shines.

(the sun still shines!)

later.
i think i will go and buy a plant.
happy birthday little one.

Jill

so there is this girl named Jill.
shes better than me.
in every single way.
except when it comes to directions.
or getting away with things.
or doing her hair.
or getting a date.
but i suppose she doesnt care about those things.

not like i do.

she is brilliant you see.
always does her homework.
always gets the right answer.
always remembers.

Not like me.
I forget.
my mind twirls.
hers is right on.

last night she wore her chemistry shirt.

a green t-shirt with quotes from her teacher and the periodic table on the front.
the green complimented the red in her hair.
but the rest of it made no sense.
i never took chemistry.
only four years of art.

Something about a Shuffle

An old man came in for a pasty.
Just one hot pasty.
Without rutabaga this time.
He told me about some person,
who went to some place,
and did some thing.
He said he just got out of church.
and something about a shuffle and the ice.
He was going to watch the football game later.
and then have his pasty for dinner.
He smiled and i smiled back.
Laughing was hard on him
but he still enjoyed it i think.
He said he just needs someone to talk to him every once and a while.
(i know that feeling.)
I told him to have a good day.
I really ment it.
And then he left.

I am scared to be lonely.

Go

i have to get out of here.

fast.

my surroundings eat me alive.

taking my body first
then my mind
my heart and my soul.

i have no thoughts.

(none of my own.)

i crave my own movement.

a rhythm i have created.
and no one knows.
walk with my own shadow.
only my own.

my own desires.
my own skin.

i crawl out of this one.

on my hands and knees.

towards something bigger.
begging the universe to provide me this.

asking politely.

please.

i am so lost.
and entirely taken.

Thought Process

Another life I have been born and have died there all the same.
It has been a lifetime ago.
Time is true now; the world cradles me and has taken over.
Before self destruction.
Suddenly I realize this true place and become stronger with the recognition.
Self worth becomes apparent for the first time.
The people who I never thought would be there are there, and they watch my very first steps.
Truly believing in my tattered soul.
I cant believe myself yet.
Its like a dream you know you'd have to dream sooner or later and you know it will be okay.