Monday, May 31

what else matters

"You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She’s not perfect - you aren’t either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart. So don’t hurt her, don’t change her, don’t analyze and don’t expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she’s not there." -Bob Marley

Monday, May 24

i miss

the picture i used to have as my header.

i'm happy that it's summer and that is my only worry.

Sunday, May 23

Tuesday, May 18

just sayin

"As a rule, people born in this period feel isolated and lonely in life, and if not actively employed in some work or purpose they become melancholy and despondent." - on Leo's........my zodiac sign



you know how you never realized something was true until it punched your eyeballs while you perused a silly astrology website with blinking banners and comic sans font when you should have been doing something productive?



speaking of melancholy, this work is called "Mel and Colly" and is part of the series  with robert and judy and lady


mixed media on gesso board

Saturday, May 15

one of my favorite things

is when i prove myself right.


signed the lease thursday for an amazing apartment



and on the way home from lease-signing i found the perfect fedora, and yesterday the old-fashion style bathing suit i ordered came in the mail.
i'm a lucky happy girl.

Wednesday, May 12

robert and judy

after a suggestion by lauren from this post, i gave robert and judy faces

mixed media on gesso board

Sunday, May 9

happy mother's day

i sent my mom these poems i wrote, inspired by her
in hopes that she doesn't notice that i forgot to mail a card


*the first one is a sestina: a 6 stanza poem with 6 lines each, plus a 3 line envoy at the end. the main point of it is the repeating end words, which have a certain order.
*the second one is an acrostic poem - which is when the first letter of each lines spells out a word


Ma

Don't tell me you weren't happy for 
a reason to ditch that gray womb 
of your cubicle that Friday morning. 
You said you knew it was time 
but I think you were just saying 
that, 'cause I was two weeks early– 

–the last time I was early
for anything. It took thirty six hours before
they went in to get me, you said.
They sliced me out of that sauna of a womb
with cold metal, but you still said I did it on my time,
two o'clock on a Saturday afternoon.

I guess I just like that time of day – Remember our afternoon
walks down Main Street on Sundays, after the early 
mass? And don't think I'll forget all the times
it was still dark out when I'd wake for 
school, and you'd wake too, from the goose-down womb
of your comforter, because you couldn't sleep, you said

and I knew that wasn't true, but I said
nothing, because you poured better cereal. At night,
you'd wrap me restless in your nest, your womb
of limbs, and I’d lay there into the early
hours of a Monday morning, back before
I knew how to make myself fall asleep–a simpler time.

I had a habit of acting like you were wasting my time
and even I'm impressed with all the cruel words I could say.
You had a habit of loving me anyway, for
I was a part of you once, I guess that's why. You'd kiss me goodnight
on a Tuesday through my ice block walls, then I'd wake up early
to make you breakfast, a sorry attempt to fill your wounded womb

on Wednesday. Oh, to crawl back into your womb
where I can float the day away, kill time
the way we all did once, in our earliest
hours, inside the safe walls of our mother's body. I'd say
good morning with a gentle kick, and you'd whisper goodnight
with your hands on our walls. What did I leave for?

August will be here soon, and in the womb of a summer night
–the warm early hours of the second Thursday–I say we have a toast just
 for us, to twenty one years since that lazy afternoon when I took my time.




Somewhere


Standing on a naked tree limb sprouting 

out of a grassless knoll–two still robins
make eye contact–They are sick
engulfed in some sweeping illness
wrapping their tiny lungs–They stare silent for
hours–the only sound a heavy autumn wind
Evening comes to tuck the earth beneath a blanket of frost
Red breasts burn in the cruel air–one robin whispers to the other
even if I'm lost in the dead of winter I'll remember you




 in central park this past winter with my mom,
whose favorite bird is the robin

Saturday, May 8

sonnet LXXI

love crosses its islands,from grief to grief
it sets its roots,waterd with tears,
and no one-no one-can escape the heart's progress
as it runs,silent and carnivorous.

You and I searched for a wide valley,for another planet
where the salt wouldn't touch your hair
where sorrows coulden't grow because of anytyhing I did,
where bread could live and not grow old.

A planet entwined with vistas and foliage,
a plain,a rock,hard and unoccupied:

we wanted to build a strong nest

with our own hands,without hurt or harm or speech,
but love was not like that;love was a lunatic city
with crowds of people blanching on their porches.

-Pablo Neruda



have you ever been in love with a poet with a poem?

Wednesday, May 5

positive thinking and popcorn

do you believe everything happens for a reason???



so do i.
and that's why i'm not freaking out that we didn't get the most amazing apartment ever that we applied for. oh, sneaky landlords and their secret rules. 
i really believe that we just weren't meant to have it, and that an even better one is going to show up, with our names on it.
now i feel like i have some wisdom to share for anyone who is apartment hunting, especially in bloodthirsty nyc:
 anytime a real estate agent/broker type person tells you something  along the lines of
you're not going to find what you're looking for in that price range, or
lowest price you're going to find in that area, this opportunity won't last! or
you're gonna have to pay a fee no matter what because of the market...
don't listen to them 

in related news, a few weeks ago i had an assignment to illustrate a poem about nyc, so i wrote a haiku inspired by my current apartment.


through tenement walls
i know the sorrow and joy
of perfect strangers


pen, watercolor, acrylic 

Tuesday, May 4

manifesto

austin kleon makes blackout poems:










The manifesto is this: draw the art you want to see, make the music you want to hear, write the books you want to read.
-Austin Kleon 


Tiny Crimes

When I wasn't forced to stand
nose to the corner wall–exiled
for a crime they could never prove I committed
    I ate lunch
at the table with the rest of the tiny felons.
I remember the day when
Teacher, the one with the laugh as big
as her bottom,
waddled over to where I sat
with my partners in pee-the-mat-during-naptime crime,
my peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich
stuck to every small finger,
and she painfully bent over, her flesh
billowing out in all directions,
and pulled down the elastic waist of my blue jeans
to reveal
   –GASP
my older brother's tighty whiteys
hanging loosely on my small hips.
She aimed a chubby finger at my seat, spewing
a vicious laugh from the foghorn of her mouth.
My secret flooded the classroom, each tiny head dissolving
into sticky laughing puddles.
   "Doesn't she own girl underpants?"
   "Maybe she really has boy parts!"
I sat with guilty hands and burning cheeks
sifting my three and a half years of memories, quick as salt
    but heavy as sand,
silently making deals with the laughing devil.
I'll never forgive my Mom and
the washing machine
for failing me, and
I'll never pee the mat again
I swear–
    I'll never pee the mat again