90 degree reading room

time,
a slow heaving breast bone
when caught...
a glance into ones mind
brings sudden flight;
heart flaps to life and spins madly,
"it is over too soon" she mourns...
each day, the pressing strands of shimmered hair
in one movement--
glow.

Understanding --

the garbled grip of knowledge seeps still, out ears, down the neck... dribbles into dust.
Yes I have left myself to rust.
Long years passed, out of cities and sunsets,
where I said Yes!
now many winged doves fly me down the stream, past estuary and into ocean.

I have opened my hands, here--
dahlias bloom. 

I saved

all the photos where they were actually smiling.

God, I wish they would smile again.

sex and terror.

Sometime around the late 1800's, the stereotypes of women and men's roles in society were christened: The Cult of Domesticity.

So women rebelled, they fought, they made themselves heard.

Kate Chopin, taking hold of her liberties, explores sexuality in her book "The Storm". You may have heard of it. Erotic, and told from a man's point of view, "The Storm" is well praised and highly-regarded. This is literature, it is controversial, but it is well-thought and not mindlessly created.

I am not a feminist, nor am I a housewife. I just think everybody got confused, a little brain washed, and back pedaled so fast, away from domesticity, that they ran into the arms of individualism-- freedom--, unaware of what it would bring.

Women's rights and the whole exploration of women's sexuality and "empowerment" and "independence" are not the only factors that led to this age of misused sexuality, confusion, and empty-mindedness.

But here we are, 2011, we worship those who are glamorous. We cut our faces and change the shape of our bodies. People are taking steroids, then alcohol, anything to numb the pain and fit in to the new stereotype we have created. We buy million dollar clothing, and wear heels so high that we finally look like models. Good job America.

We spend our days watching violence, eating it up like candy. We spit it back out and repeat cycles. We shoot up and shoot our neighbors. We spend our money seeing films that portray the anger in our hearts, and what we forgot to feel because we've become so numb to violence, and so numb to sexuality.

Go on, down another bottle, fuck another woman, make another buck. America, you have it made.

But sometimes I meet a little child, one who claps their hands over a picture book and a new dolly, one who smiles when they clutch a fistful of fishy crackers. A child who wears a pink t-shirt and has never been abused. A child who laughs when the snow falls and plays in the rain, who wears rubber boots and doesn't mind the mud: one who lingers in her mother's embrace.

Sometimes I remember what it is like to have hope, so beautiful it stings your eyes and doesn't burn as it settles into the core of your being. Sometimes, I remember that love is more than the movies and more than cheap romance novels.

One day, I will know hope in the fibers and molecules of my body. No need to fear; I pray you know the age of hope when you see it.

2 things i want to do:

1. shop locally

2. go backpacking

the clouds lift...

...and I am free. 

numero

1. Potatoes; starch attaching to bones and skins falling to the trash
 2. Love sees a million things and forgives them all, and always
  3. Robins plunder their nest, searching for their children
   4. Skin flakes to the ground and we never notice.
    5. There was a time when I was trusting...
     6. I pray that I will again.

summer yet?

Today I remembered how she kept my favorite sweets in the pantry. 

They weren't my favorite-- they were hers. 

But they became my favorite because she loved them. 

I want to be right, sometimes.

The right brain says:

I am the present,
here for the presence,
I'll drink it in without a mouth,
see the world through eyes like crescents.

The left brain says:

I am your past,
I am the future and this moment won't last.
This is a table, this is a chair,
you who are separate, with burdens to bear.

The right sees what is not real-- it cannot recall what is and what is not.
The left sees the social construct-- it only recalls what is real based off of majority belief.

The right believes.
The left knows.

But secretly the left feels that it may not know anything at all.

stall

I stalled in the kitchen. Arm propped against the chair, other arm loose against my side.

Am I breathing?
I don't remember what I was listening to, I don't remember what I was doing, where I was going.

turn, slowly, staring at the ground. Place my hand on the fridge, hand drops like a weight back to my side.

Sit by the fireplace, feel warm.
Go back to where I was.

Is it possible that I don't need medicine? just a new mindset?

humans are polymers.

we are all connected:

I'm glad I have you.

thank you for reminding me that
I don't need to be afraid.

fetching it to me with full hands

Martin Valigursky

Lately I've been feeling rather inadequate.
No castle-building,
No words of wisdom...

just small and helpless.

The New Year

I never noticed the snow glittering on the ground,
as headlights rush over and set it ablaze with TWINKLES!

Looked like a million diamonds, the most vast and beautiful treasure I had ever seen.

I am so excited about 2011. My life looks bright and beautiful like that diamond-snow. <3

petition answered:

[source unknown]

"We’re in such a hurry most of the time we never get much chance to talk. The result is a kind of endless day-to-day shallowness, a monotony that leaves a person wondering years later where all the time went and sorry that it’s all gone. " -Robert M. Pirsig
(Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values)

 
To whomever it may concern:

I have decided that I will savor every bit of life. I will suck the marrow from the broken bones of life-- I will drink relish in every second, and take time to go beneath a surface which has become as cold and stiff as ice. This surface of materialism, shallowness, the fast-paced hum of machines and google thinking for me... it's all for naught. Are you willing to cut deep into a forest? A forest thick with tiny leaves dangling by your ears, baby-berries awaiting to be munched? The smallness adds up to the sum of life. If we mindlessly accomplish, we will look back with regret. If we put our hearts into anything, we will once again be alive. Wake up, machines!

It. Is. Time.

It is time to answer a question which could change lives.

What steps are you taking toward your dreams?

Wow. Pretty intense question to ponder. It kind of makes my insides quiver, because there is so much to be done, and I'm unsure of where to start.
Confronted by this monster, the past five minutes have been spent busily, and in utter disarray. However, of one thing I am certain, these next years are going to be AMAZING. There is beauty everywhere I go, music singing toward me from mountaintops and alley-ways-- there is love seeping into my heart, and growing vines in my lungs. Someday, I want to be the type of person who does everything because of love.

To even begin to answer that impending question, one must first decide what their dreams are made of. Mine must be made of love, I believe. (Technically I only sort of decided to accept this crazy and splendid dream God put in my heart). All I know now is that I want to create, organize, and reach out to people more than I have before. Build things. I want to build things that will not decay. Relationships; these are what I want to build. Perhaps, as someone once told me, we are... only because we live in relation to others, and God.

In essence, I want to move toward my dreams... Still working on how, exactly.

I think it begins with cleaning up my room, using my beckoning canvases, drawing sound from the cello and of course, giving my boy another hug :)

snow is on my mind..

thank you for the photo.

wishes

I was thinking to myself today how I have certainly lost a lot of respect for various female artists. Although they produce one or two heart-wrenching songs, their others tend to disturb me a little. And it's a shame because I do not even want to watch their music videos because they are so degrading to the artist. I wish music could be beautiful all around, just as I wish this world could be beautiful all around.

However, I do love Sufjan Stevens (I know, not a girl but I just decided I shall go listen!)
Sister winter, here I come.

Sister, it's winter, put some clothes on.

(as a P.S, I wasn't talking to MY sister.)

1 thing I would love to have right now:

1. a hug

3 things I would love to have right now.

1. a plushie

2. multitudes of paper lanterns

3. a cello to express myself

How It Ends - Devotchka

[For whom it may concern: the links in this post were placed there by me, check them out if you've the time]

Feeling disorganized in thought processes, affect processes and actions has apparent downsides.

I like how these can spiral toward the bright-side too, though. What I mean is, even when I'm a mess, somehow everything becomes illuminated (attention: this is a reference, go watch the movie). Building off that reference-- what I love is that although there are, uncertain futures, bloody knees and shattered photo-frames, I know how it ends.

Somehow, it ends where it started... with love.

And when I realize this, things like schoolwork and business stop worrying me for a while.