Thursday, October 21, 2010


Been feeling very introspective lately, which is kind of like saying I have been breathing lately. But, still. Just feeling more quiet and navel-gazing of late. It happens. 

Came across some e.e. cummings poems today, which reminded me of how much I love his work. It had a huge impact on me as a teenager, the seeming randomness (that often isn't), the raw emotions, the deliberately odd structure to force a certain kind of pacing. I know a lot of people consider poetry to be kind of wanky, but, I think it can really get to the heart of things sometimes. Things you can't express in an entirely linear, coherent way. Emotions aren't always (in fact, they usually aren't) easy to define or communicate. Poetry is one way to explore that. And it can be deeply satisfying.

So I think I'll write some and then get back to all the work I'm still doing and the paintings I've had sitting around for a month. Oh time, where do you go?


Don't talk to me about the bite
it sinks down into my skin 
feeds on my
too solid flesh
and eats me whole


the way my brain hates
goes beyond the bone
and leaks into 
my bitter body skin
why love when you can
loathe the shape
the round the un-contained
why love when you can hate
the all of what you are
from bone to meat to skin

touch is where
my truth lives
as long as it is dark
i can feel
and be 
yet soft
yet smooth
and sweet
the shadows hide
the secret
awful skin
that lies and
pretends it could be
but only in the dark
when touch becomes a truth