Saturday, September 27, 2008
Boy Simply Says...
Only a week before my show and I'm 8 paintings behind.
It's technically not my fault, body issues have kept me from performing, but it doesn't fix anything by saying that.
In bed last night I mumble "my show is going to be crap, a real failure."
Boy simply says..."You can pull it off, baby. You always do."
*boing eyes*
I hope it gets sorted, really.
It's technically not my fault, body issues have kept me from performing, but it doesn't fix anything by saying that.
In bed last night I mumble "my show is going to be crap, a real failure."
Boy simply says..."You can pull it off, baby. You always do."
*boing eyes*
I hope it gets sorted, really.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Season Change!
Oh!
The happiest days OF MY LIFE are when I wake up and feel a change in the air.
Not due to a temporary storm (though I also adore those) or some kind of temperature drop.
But due to the changing of the seasons.
For the past three days pecans have been falling onto our tin roof...so delicious all day to hear the random plink-plonking, the sudden BANGS and booms. That was delicious in and of itself but this morning, this morning...
There was a change in the air when I woke.
The change of fall, travelling down the road.
I imagine fall in an old horse drawn carriage, horseman dressed in black cloaks, whipping a frantic whip and hurtling forward. Wind whipping and knocking leaves off the trees down a dark, dirt road.
So beautiful!
I can't believe the seasons are changing RIGHT now.
This morning has made my morning.
*grin*
The happiest days OF MY LIFE are when I wake up and feel a change in the air.
Not due to a temporary storm (though I also adore those) or some kind of temperature drop.
But due to the changing of the seasons.
For the past three days pecans have been falling onto our tin roof...so delicious all day to hear the random plink-plonking, the sudden BANGS and booms. That was delicious in and of itself but this morning, this morning...
There was a change in the air when I woke.
The change of fall, travelling down the road.
I imagine fall in an old horse drawn carriage, horseman dressed in black cloaks, whipping a frantic whip and hurtling forward. Wind whipping and knocking leaves off the trees down a dark, dirt road.
So beautiful!
I can't believe the seasons are changing RIGHT now.
This morning has made my morning.
*grin*
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Beanstalk Reality
b e a n s t a l k . r e a l i t y.
The older I get the less I believe in reality, which is not real, and the more I believe in fantasy, which is no longer fantasy.
A friend gave me a drawstring pouch yesterday filled with dirty one dollar coins. Just like in Robin Hood.
I adore it. He told me to buy a pizza. How could you spend treasure on such a beast? Nay, I say. I will spend it on notions.
I also hope to acquire (now) a similar drawstring pouch filled with beans, that I may throw out on any occasion that pleases me. Walking down the street. Driving through the country. Jumping on the bed. Wishes, you see.
I am very good at wishing on things.
I wish on pennies, I wish on dandelions, I wish on stars, I wish on time, I wish on magic, I wish on superstition, I wish on the way his breath intakes. It couldn't hurt anything to add beanstalks to the mix.
When baby is born I resolve never to stop sewing grass and flowers on the ceiling, or to planting stars in the ground. Not at 6 months, not at 2 years, not at 5, 7, 12, 15, 18 and then some.
We'll construct the world together, we three, playing our soundtracks, telling our stories, lighting the paths we stumble down. Fireflies in palms, pockets out turned, nothing but light on our breaths.
And I don't care for the people who can't speak this language.
For the people who left Neverland and are indignant at those that didn't.
Because they are not real, either.
And their reality is not ours.
I can't believe that every day I break down another grey brick wall.
Smash it to smithereens with a wish, a kiss.
To let the fields spill out.
I can't believe how easy it's gotten to find what's real and what's not.
To make flowers rain down from above.
It's pretty beautiful to be this way.
A true back-stroking from God.
Let's... be.
The older I get the less I believe in reality, which is not real, and the more I believe in fantasy, which is no longer fantasy.
A friend gave me a drawstring pouch yesterday filled with dirty one dollar coins. Just like in Robin Hood.
I adore it. He told me to buy a pizza. How could you spend treasure on such a beast? Nay, I say. I will spend it on notions.
I also hope to acquire (now) a similar drawstring pouch filled with beans, that I may throw out on any occasion that pleases me. Walking down the street. Driving through the country. Jumping on the bed. Wishes, you see.
I am very good at wishing on things.
I wish on pennies, I wish on dandelions, I wish on stars, I wish on time, I wish on magic, I wish on superstition, I wish on the way his breath intakes. It couldn't hurt anything to add beanstalks to the mix.
When baby is born I resolve never to stop sewing grass and flowers on the ceiling, or to planting stars in the ground. Not at 6 months, not at 2 years, not at 5, 7, 12, 15, 18 and then some.
We'll construct the world together, we three, playing our soundtracks, telling our stories, lighting the paths we stumble down. Fireflies in palms, pockets out turned, nothing but light on our breaths.
And I don't care for the people who can't speak this language.
For the people who left Neverland and are indignant at those that didn't.
Because they are not real, either.
And their reality is not ours.
I can't believe that every day I break down another grey brick wall.
Smash it to smithereens with a wish, a kiss.
To let the fields spill out.
I can't believe how easy it's gotten to find what's real and what's not.
To make flowers rain down from above.
It's pretty beautiful to be this way.
A true back-stroking from God.
Let's... be.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Exhaustion
Rough start to the day which has left me wiped out and exhausted.
Cut out my tongue, I have no voice.
Let her be miserable in a tiny room and me be miserable in a big house.
When the best option for both isn't even considered.
Due to insecure reason and deaf ears.
Trap the creatures.
Take me away.
To the clouds.
To the reeds.
To the other.
Cut all the ropes and let me float away.
I can't stand this stink around my feet.
Cut out my tongue, I have no voice.
Let her be miserable in a tiny room and me be miserable in a big house.
When the best option for both isn't even considered.
Due to insecure reason and deaf ears.
Trap the creatures.
Take me away.
To the clouds.
To the reeds.
To the other.
Cut all the ropes and let me float away.
I can't stand this stink around my feet.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Peppermint
Today, at 90 degrees, I put a peppermint in my mouth and crushed it with my teeth.
And then I drew my breath in quickly.
And it was sharp.
And it was crisp.
And it was winter.
And my lungs gasped.
And my heart flickered.
And winter was upon me.
Such a beautiful trick for the long lasting summer.
A beautiful foreplay of life.
And then I drew my breath in quickly.
And it was sharp.
And it was crisp.
And it was winter.
And my lungs gasped.
And my heart flickered.
And winter was upon me.
Such a beautiful trick for the long lasting summer.
A beautiful foreplay of life.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Experiments With Yupo
So I was painting directly onto the records.
Sanding, priming, undercoating, AGing, and then painting.
But they have a small raised edge on the side...from all of the layers.
So I wonder if I shouldn't just experiment with tayloring yupo to the records and painting directly onto that.
Today, I discover.
Sanding, priming, undercoating, AGing, and then painting.
But they have a small raised edge on the side...from all of the layers.
So I wonder if I shouldn't just experiment with tayloring yupo to the records and painting directly onto that.
Today, I discover.
Monday, September 1, 2008
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