Now there's a butterfly on my face

 

Always had an eye for it / We always had a shoe / Look what else he can do

 German shepherds, Music, sirens, earthquakes. *hidden clavicle 236*

(*interlude xymox / dead can dance / D Sylvian / wire / 45 grave / tuxedo moon ) (to edit)

Don't start me offfff / a man can take advantage of (forward card shark game "impenitri-able")

for beginning to and back again / don't start me / me / me / 

forgot to stop start stop start me for of of 

(cip[her)

little flowers bloom / Moon approaches. (don't start stop / feel this way)

(re/sponce)

look in the rearview mirror reflections

a million days a ray / a cup. a hundred cups of honey / the reflectionless faith erased

the face of ....in time we'll be together for rain storms

forgotten days to die (accomplices)

when did you become a cold split in two? (over the ridge / cold spells ahead / coastal washaway

scrub the back / fade to black / be together for a million days like every cell banging into get/run this black abyss while time throws itself into the pool

random notes / blanks / indecipherable memories

Masked gay bandits / Mixed pattern madness / swarthy 'fall-toned' incognito / sexy homemade bitches

I was just a girl then...

 https://youtu.be/xCmcvsCxfng

No Part / History / The Future Is A Vast Wall

 

Some part of my brain is exacting chaos..

The other signal is a car on fire

The crevasse of cold winds blowing

Updates, government corrupted, pushed up

Belly trapped undercurrent,

All the signs are in flames

And crying

I fell inside myself

Where the buildings fell

And I pulled, cement blocks and rolling dust,

There are no more days after today.

This moment is, everything and nothing

Crying like your child is on fire

The vastness of this moment, is what is happening,

Happenstance, hospitable, approximately the right space

Where things are meaningless and motionless in their emotional states

You.

Are, finally….seeing. 

Beyond the buildings, other languages, and things; feelings.

The wallet and worth within the final frame…

Before the trains came.

____

for RBG / The Vastness

Yerp! / He's On Fire / Yeah

Add yeah add yeah add

Exhausting / Plinkyety Plink / Confessions / Slipping

Fake It til You Make It. 

I haven't written in a while.

Been putting food on the table. Trying to communicate in the Tower of Babel. Keeping it '100'.

Working more than is good for me, and therefore more than adequately gives me enough time to look for work outside what I am doing. I love what I am sometimes able to do and accomplish, and I do my best to mitigate the physical impact that is having own my body. I am still managing to squeak out some artwork, a few pieces of which I can stand to look at again. I've tabled the idea of doing a print book for the time, even though my draft (whipped up in just three days!) is complete at 280 some pages.

But...

I need to get real. I'm exhausted emotionally all the time. I'm physically sore from the time I get up until I uncomfortably lie in bed hoping my brain will stop doing loop de loops. My knees hurt every time I get up or bend down. I continue to have lower back and abdominal pain, but I'm not spending any more money to be told there is nothing wrong, and I'm a needy hypochondriac. But I know I am not healthy. I can feel that I am not 100% and that my lifestyle is seriously compromising my health.

Even though I have tools to help, I simply can't be high all the time. Too many things need my attention. Too many things are too complicated for me to just sit around in a semi distracted state. I have a hard enough time staying focused on the currently spinning plates. Eventually one of these plates is going to break if I don't figure a way out of my over-commitment.

James @ Stern Grove / Good Things

Santa Fe Trip / Good Things

Bob / Good Things

March Jubilee / The Temples of Madness / The Persistence Of Admission / To my Love / Meow!

A voice in the wilderness / A slight sense of flowers in the snow / democracy dissolves - Some of the week in pictures

Finally Rain!

My only friend...the rain!

Everything before the Deluge sounded like a whisper talking to a scream / Stray dogs / my mind

Been so long / So confused / SO tired / SO overstretched to the point of infinity / no time for art / no time for reading / everything is trash / everything is squealing / everything is simply on fire in the skyline where angels rest / I hate this / Hate You / Hate ME / HATE THIS / Tired Of This / Camilla, the old, old, old, old story....this story is old. I have been bought and sold. Everything in your heart chases gold. Everything is happening now. / I am a fraud, and a failure, and a relief / I am the chief architect of my disappointment, my arm detachment - detected by dis-a-jointment / boy's turf / dream/ fans / flutes / fanatics / fluid / hope/ dreams / release / gates / open / happiness / waiting till some sort of sunshine happens to wander by...

 New York n/ State of My-ind

Marin. Pffffhhhttt!!!

 San Francisco / wrong season the tree is dead / the sky is blue

 Fremont / we'll meet again

 Pastel Skies / snuggle bunny

Miss you kitchen kitty

Help me remember me / I was somebody

The The / lifeline save  me healing

You throw rocks

the docks heave 

the wove and the wreaths are satisfied

the wraiths and the willows are seated and sated

the tires all fall flat and deflated

cu cut cut cut couldn't sleep at all /

can't sleep / can't sleep

can't sleep

the empty houses

dead parental spouses

espousing silence and 

form\function

what

what

what

what

weird

art of nothingness 

*quiet*

Been SO Long / Saluting / At The Finish

I haven't been here in awhile.

SO much on my mind, more pictures and thoughts than words.

Seasons are changing, time is passing. Fires are burning. Lots of pictures of mistakes.

Lives are ebbing. There is both constant chaos and quiet reflections.

I reach for you
a ball of yarn
to reconcile my feelings,
loss of all those over time
but still you
unwind
in my mind
you become every
face, many faces
like fibers folded all together
to measure at life's finish.

Many faces, all filled with grace.
I reach for threads,
but they slip away
cords unstripped by design
into the winds like golden hairs they fly
many traces of whiskers of history of faces
every one of you belongs here.

Every ball that draws us up,
will unspool at the end of time
and rub our nose in the decay,
but I was lying when I said
I was going to be brave.

You want life to rave up,
but occasionally you come to the breakdown.
someone takes a brick from your foundation
and you lose all sense of place.

I know that it hurts,
I just don't know how hard.
An small explosion,
like a fist in a pile of flour
erupting like a thousands clocks going off the rails
dangerous moments among the faithful.

(quiet) (quiet) (quiet)

you look at me with these eyes.
diving into each other,
I have loved you
I have failed you,
and I will reach across
the bridge of time
for you.

The Movie At The Rest Of Time

Toxic,
Information,
infestation,
hateful fascination
lately, hazily and in your face-ly
media wash-overs
a million stories a minute
and I cannot swim well anymore;
drowning sometimes.
overwhelmed beyond a careless yawn.
indifference
then sleep.
(then kisses, then dreams, then hope without heartache for
a million daffodils waving like a chorus line)
everything joyful is ignored
everything changes too quickly to fall in love to deeply
to keep things close which
one can keep
that any fire might
render asunder
low grade chaos,
every star in the night sky
exposes by flame
the game changed
me, who I once knew
into something new
I cannot swim through
I sometimes miss The Who I thought I knew
(then there are things I know / my baby just cares for me /
each star in the sky dulls in comparison / to he)
sand, caving in from waves
which I understand overlap
birds flap over heads, things go white,

and for a minute I gaze as time passes
in the quiet/loud
in here.

I'm always in here.
everything seems to come back here.



























my thoughts, dark or light, to the same place.
circling and circling and circling
inside my anxiety
my trembling before
the cage bars
to a frozen bird.

Trying to find a way out of the art slump / I Still Exist / Re-Ignite!

I can still see.
everyone wants to jump on the bandwagon,
post on instagram,
twitter storm to social media-whore fame.
I tell myself one day
all the clouds will fall away
and the simple things,
the leaves that sway,
the drag of a pastel across paper
in a summer breeze
and the rustle of absent people
will be the only
thing that is heard.

'Play In The Clouds' (Spitfire Pathways), 2018, Mixed Media on Toned Paper