Two of my poems from Tongues of the Ocean's June 2011 issue.
Evening in the Room Built from Words
The Poem is Already...
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
This one was done with a CD marker before dawn one morning... the lovely, secret hours of heavy rain, purple air and infinite possibilities. I think the most remarkable thing about this image is the wee thing with the dreamy eyes. I think I know him/her. It's not hard to make myself believe that he/she is real.
I turned 25 this year, and with it came a weight of expectation that surprised me... I refuse to believe that the years are meant to feel like rocks in the pocket, like harsh bleaching light. So I choose to remain a believer in all that grows, and all that catches fire, and everything small and unnoticed that is waiting to be heard.
It may not be coincidence then, that those are my hands in the drawing :)
Blessings and wings,
Saturday, July 16, 2011
"She fears I’ve grown too wild
to be kept indoors..."
"so just this once
I let her scald the feathers
from my body, anoint me,
wrap me in gauze."
" ...but while she sleeps
I will forage
for dying things,
sprout slim bones from my spine
that will arch into wings."
Thursday, July 7, 2011
It's so hard to explain to people why every piece can't be Super-beautiful.
I'll get questions from disturbed friends and relatives like... "But why she bleeding!?" or "But why she face so serious?" and the inevitable... "But you think people will want to see that?"
The what-people-want-to-see business is iffy for me. Some of the paintings, poems, movies etc that have truly affected me were those that unsettled me, troubled me, hurt me.... those that I did not want to see.
So, I usually smile, and tell the person that the subject of the piece (usually, some large-eyed woman) doesn't have to be beautiful in order for the piece itself to be beautiful. But then, that doesn't work for me either. Because I usually think that my big-eyed girls are fascinating, and gorgeous.
The word "Beautiful" with a capital "Bee" gets so tiring.
And the older I get, the less it seems to matter. I find people most appealing when they are least fancied up, least posed. And I find my big-eyed girls beautiful when they are broken, growing trees from their bellies, and bleeding streams of colour.
Because, honestly, show me someone real who isn't broken, growing trees, or bleeding colour in one way or another.
It's all beautiful. :)