Posts Tagged ‘Arts’

Finn Family Moomintroll

Image via Wikipedia

I have been busy writing a lot of poetry lately..

have some.

better yet-

write your own.¬† ūüėÄ



Euphoric from last nights


My  brother rummages the dumpster & finds a

a moomintroll  delicacy

Sargent pepper’s star-gazer

whose  face




to heaven



before he fell.

Thick  Steak/

Ice Cream/ Baskin Robbins/ Rocky Road

Looking up at him

I see rotting food

not strawberries .. not rice crispies

just this mornings hungry  promise

going  pop pop pop

like the breaking of




dc 2011



Read Full Post »

I was just re-reading my¬† post on “Re-invention”¬† and was pondering the phrase , ” bringing oneself¬† back into existence. ”¬† Another look at Re-invention would read like this:

            Re-invention: Bringing Oneself Back Into Existence

¬† As¬† an Artist I could paint themes that are related to my experience , however, at the¬† moment, I¬† don’ t have a need or desire ¬† paint¬† to paint dark themes.

This has less to do with the visual communication than it does with

 verbal communication.

 It has so much to do with The  Forced  Silences.

The Forced Silences , to me,  feel like a Dissapearence.

To be Dissapeared.

Is to be  Blindfolded

To be kept downstairs in the Basement.

To be Tied up

To be  Taken for long periods of time.

To have ones Mouth  Taped

it also¬† means finding a¬† ” language ” in which¬† to communicate¬† the unspeakable. ¬† To find the means to convey this on my own terms¬† and as¬† an Artist .

To  put myself on the Map.

¬†¬†¬†¬†¬† that says , ” I am witness to this” .


For those of us who live at the shoreline
standing upon the constant edges of decision
crucial and alone
for those of us who cannot indulge
the passing dreams of choice
who love in doorways coming and going
in the hours between dawns
looking inward and outward
at once before and after
seeking a now that can breed
like bread in our children’s mouths
so their dreams will not reflect
the death of ours:

For those of us
who were imprinted with fear
like a faint line in the center of our foreheads
learning to be afraid with our mother’s milk
for by this weapon
this illusion of some safety to be found
the heavy-footed hoped to silence us
For all of us
this instant and this triumph
We were never meant to survive.

And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain
when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning
when our stomachs are full we are afraid
of indigestion
when our stomachs are empty we are afraid
we may never eat again
when we are loved we are afraid
love will vanish
when we are alone we are afraid
love will never return
and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid

So it is better to speak
we were never meant to survive

Audre Lorde, The Black Unicorn

Read Full Post »


In  a loud voice,






Truth to Power.

Read Full Post »