October 2011
1 post
2 tags
August 2011
1 post
Rekindling.
I can’t remember the last time I spent hours, wasted sleep, and poured through photography blogs. I’m not entirely sure what this means. Maybe it means nothing, and I’m OK with that.
I have such a strange relationship to photography, with photography. It broke me several years ago and I’ve pretty much put down my camera ever since. I don’t think it was so much...
October 2010
1 post
Unraveling
I have had to fake OK for so long now, out of a necessity for survival, that my soul feels like it’s crumbling. Like, in moments, I feel so irretrievably wounded and confused. This blog was never intended to be an outlet for my over-dramatized, late night confessions…it was meant for displaying the healing process I was experiencing through the somewhat resurrected practice of drawing...
August 2010
2 posts
With all possible sincerity, I cannot begin to describe how happy I will be to make it through this week.
Life is too fucking brutal for my taste.
July 2010
6 posts
Foil
“I was able to ache for her, for all that had been so impossible for her to bear, for the bad cards she had been dealt. Yet I could forgive her only about half of the time. I was struggling to learn the little things she forgot to teach me—that I was beautiful, and of value, regardless of how well or poorly I was doing in the world—and was mad that she had given me a bad...
I am, even after all of this and all of these years, still having a really hard time coping with the fact that I am, nor will I ever be, perfect. In fact, it makes me angry that I even have a hard time with it.
Perfectionism and its roots get the middle finger from me today.
Wood Floors
“Tiny miracles from the tops of wood floors and all she wanted was to finish what was started over three years ago. Beauty crushed her then but it’s pain now and she can’t seem to tell the difference any more. Listens to a circus in her head, washes her showers away with tears, and clings to a single promise. Sits at the foot of the door and wonders what it will take to open. To...
Sigh.
I fear that reading patriarchy/feminist blogs at 1am on a Friday night/Saturday morning signal *both* my growing need for thought-provoking discussion now lacking in my life since (oh-so-recently) graduating AND my declining chances at ever finding a man who understands me and likes me anyway.
Wait…does saying the latter actually revoke my feminist card? :)
You matter very much. →
Don’t know why the theme of this blog creates a strikeout…which seems altogether opposite of the meaning that’s intended…
June 2010
2 posts
Parce qu'elle peut.
So tomorrow begins what feels like a time when the title of this blog is actually incredibly fitting for me. It feels like the first time since graduating that I can actually take full advantage of what graduation means…
That I can do…whatever.
Because I can.
Because my limitations are so much less significant now than they have been in so long. Because the possibilities feel a bit...
Sugar Cane
“Baby ballerina’s Hiding somewhere in the corner Where the shadow wraps around her And our torches cannot find her She will stay there till the morning Crawl behind us as we are yawning And she will leave our game To never be the same So grow tall sugarcane Eat that soil, drink the rain But know they’ll chase you if you play their little games So run, run fast...
May 2010
5 posts
Je suis...
tired in more ways than I can begin to articulate. I can no longer tell to what extent my own choices are making things harder than they need to be. All I know is…I’m really damn tired.
In the rain.
It’s weird to look back at your journal from three years ago and see where your heart was at…but more strange to see that it’s still there. Strange to see that Love146 was still called JFCI then. Strange to be asking what connections to them might lead to. Strange to have talked to my ex-boyfriend the other night about his own recent connection to them.
And although I’m...
Sarah.
“Heaven bent to take my hand And lead me through the fire Be the long awaited answer To a long and painful fight Truth be told I’ve tried my best But somewhere along the way I got caught up in all there was to offer And the cost was so much more than I could bear Though I’ve tried, I’ve fallen… I have sunk so low I have messed up Better I should know So don’t...
April 2010
8 posts
Taking it in pieces.
Alternately titled, “And then Sookie ate the pie.” …
“The anger will save you. Grief is going to bathe you, wash you, hydrate the ground at your feet…and your life is going to start from there.” Anne Lamott
I’m going to be honest: today felt a bit like crawling out from under an enormous, all-encompassing rock.
And do not waste time.
Tonight, I found myself remembering a quote I—nearly 10 years ago—taped on the front of my sketchbook. It was the only thing there, because it conveyed a sense of desperation that made it seem like it was the only thing that mattered:
“After Michelangelo died, someone found in his studio a piece of paper on which he had written a note to his apprentice, in the handwriting of his old...
Towel throwing.
Slowly learning to stop fighting…that prolonging this insanely painful death of me will only make things harder and so much worse (and already has). No longer time for complaining about dying and time to just. let. go.
(So. much. pain.)
And yet:
“We go in hopes that people stay alive and fight to live that they might arrive at a day where those words feel possible and true.”
...
Sick and tired.
Sick and up at 4:00am. Went to sleep at 1:00am. Not sure this is the quickest route to recovery. Also: writing emails at 4am is just generally never a good idea. :)
March 2010
8 posts
Self-realization
Talking to new dudes is quite possibly one of the fastest ways for me to realize both who I am and who I am not, and both what I want and what I absolutely do not want. (Is this something that came with old(er) age?)
Also: sorry…I’ve drifted away from just the drawing posts lately. This will change very soon. Likely when I finally buy a new fine tip Sharpie :)
Ten Years
Let’s be honest here: I’m trying, as desperately as possible, to lose myself in books and the like tonight, because I’m scared of what tomorrow morning brings.
Turning the knob.
Starting to think that the path of joy is only open to those willing to walk through the gates of hell.
Circus Song
“It’s been like a circus in her head. And she sighs when she hears the lions roar. She can stare through the cages ‘til the colors turn red, But she just wishes it would all go away.
Of all the things she thought she’d be, It wasn’t a falling tear factory. The days she has dreamed of are trickling by… She tries to find definition in the sky. And she’d...
February 2010
4 posts
I spent my 20s trying to control everything; now...
ryotomo:
(via travors)
I can’t breathe when my heart skips around like this. Which means I also can’t sleep. wtf.
January 2010
4 posts
“A decision not to risk again is a decision not to love again.”
– It’s from Sex God. I feel a bit like my stomach might explode, or implode, or something of the sort. I also think it’s my turn to feel this way. I’m hoping that love wins here. I’m hoping for risk here. But, I suppose, more than that, I’m actually hoping for a safe...
“And I keep believing in it…for it. That maybe not today…but someday,...”
– That’s from another blog I wrote on Christmas; it felt particularly fitting today, as well. Hoping to draw again soon; maybe later tonight. What ever happened to that bottle of wine I was planning to pick up? I suppose Netflix will have to do.
