this is the shift. sometimes i get really frightened and can't think or move my body. now is one of those moments. the hour glass is embarking upon its last mound of sand. leaking. i haven't slept. my hands are constantly shaking. i can hardly construct my art. it all looks askew and misshapen. i need to calm my body. is this real? are you real? it's too good. and so fast. i am ready. i am willing. but i am afraid. and somehow from within resides a fearless push. an aching wonder and power to prevail.

i'm so helplessly flustered and fragmented. finals are next week. strangely, i'm thriving in inspiration, but i've just no time to exhibit my ideas in a timely manner. so i'm working hastily. and most disjointed. fingers shaking. entire body shaking.

below is a painting of flesh i'm constructing for a series. still wet. collaged images will be mounted on tiny squares, submerged and emerging from it. we'll see how this goes. i'm ready to get out of here. bruised, but ready.

(flesh painting no. 6, acrylic & spray paint on canvas, 2012.)

mindsight dreamlets
plummeting pits
filling up
my stomach--
please poppy
(do not
wilt) stay--
stay sincere

explosions within my heart's moon. foolishly, willing aware forever. gaze out. breath in. i calamity. only supernova sensation. perfection of us. the because i cannot see. breath out. gaze in. i am now experiencing this cosmic dissipation of caution. speckled shackled and submissive. and there will be nothing left in me for the star's control because she's taken it. and i want her to hold it, always. but gaze wise--keeping the clashing resentment of this feeling. then go blindly there. and stand open before it's face. should dark wounds arise, i will myself to carry on debilitated. i will do anything. it's the curse of  falling infinitely. frailly. forever. forever. & ever.

keep catching myself humming her. can't stop. can't sleep.

take the branch of the willow and snap it in your palm. let the sap seep deep and kiss it. spin it delicately in a spiral of winding circles. keep doing this until it disappears. keep doing this until you disappear.

this morning i woke with the most aching sadness. something must've occurred beneath those spells of slumber. but i cannot remember. there is not even a figment of recollection. only blackness. it has now been hours since my waking, but the grip is persistent and unrelenting. there is a heavy helix lingering, knotted in my throat and in the stygian abysm of what i cannot retrieve.

within us eternally resides a delicate recoil, a drawback, a fissure, a parting. as human entities we struggle perilously to fuse those holes which haunt us. though, they are inescapable, it simply is completely inevitable. lost lovers, lost souls, lost identities, forgotten letters, misplaced belongings, vacant dreams—hollows ensue in all existences. it is in the attempts to mend our own molds where we lose ourselves. when instead we should be traversing the openings, embracing the concealed unknowns, perhaps even morphing our psyches in a dark dance with them—rather than battling the endless loop of attempted degenerative obliteration. you & i obtain the power to surpass it all. we must trust the unknown. just remember it did in fact bestow us this present which we have both come to so deeply cherish. just remember. dance. you & i are made of a dream. forever we will float. drifting through lands and heart beats. 11:11.

(our drift, found footage digital collage diptych, 2012)

made of you. and my heart beats through precisely. so helplessly. somehow, so right. somehow. somehow. a little bird flew right inside of me. wings entwined within the vines of my chest. swallowed in a thicket of ivy. she's entangled. i'm debilitated. but so perfectly. and i never saw her coming. i never saw her coming and it all happened so suddenly. it was tragic. it was beautiful. and together we have formed a sculpture. and there is a monument inside my chest. and it is it. and my heart will carry you always, little bird who flew right inside of me. i will forever hold you. i am made of you. somehow. somehow...

i will not succumb to the scum which surrounds me. spirals of sirens, delicate in their unwinding i've once ignored, but now refuse. there is too much vacillating. if i were a glass, i'd have shattered long ago from the frequencies clamoring inside me. it's time. if i don't get gone, destruction is weighing. i'll have a lot to prove, in that there's no denying. but i trust in myself that i will prevail. i just need you to trust me, too. and that i need most of all.











































(come with me, digital collage, 2012) & (something, maybe, digital collage, 2012)

perhaps i'm thinking haphazardly. perhaps, but i must. i've always taken things so cautiously. i've paved my path most sacrificially. but it is now that i am ready to throw caution to the wind. soon i'll be leaving. it's enlivening. for once i feel passionate again. for once i feel all will soon be as i have so many times dreamt of. do trust i understand no future is set in stone, but at least i can sculpt the clay. and so i will. and so will she. and so it goes. and so i go.

straight down cataleptic bone mojo sting of violet hunger choking marrow like razor blade lovebirds. soaring perpetually. orgastic formlessness. i shall not die, i shall dissolve. into you. as if in dreams, in self-oblivion, in intoxication, i do. a paradoxical perceptual weightlessness undescribed in cloud-pale veils or sheets, plunging towards nothing. plunging to put out the moon. because i can't. i can't. and i love her. oh, moon. and you. ...you...still pass me. still possess me. how will you ever fade my relentless reveries. and you still pass me. but a vision. of reality. oh, dissipation and despair. blood and the moon and you. developed under the red blub in the darkroom of my body. submerged in my veins, little photographs. endless photographs transforming. reinforcing. negatives, delicate enamel. endless, i sink. consciousness, you strangle me. eyes, they sink. images, they sink. eaten by dreams, as corpses by worms. you were a maggot weaving wildly, waltzing alone. but you carved holes. from which now roots have taken hold. blossoms from the cuts that made you think you owned me. how foolish. how foolish to let light leak in. yearning for buoyancy and obliteration. wreckage of rafts. plum pit chasms in the depths of me. don't chase desire. let it fester. let it fester. let it sink.

entwined eternally
so fast
it was a beautiful blur

i'm always trapped. if it's not my body, it's the land. if it's not the land, it's my lover. if it's not my lover, it's the moon. but it's always something. maybe i'm trapped because of my incessant need to be free. if i do ever obtain it, i'll have nothing else to dream for. so it's always something. the circle haunts me. and it is this circle that is my destiny. the eyes; a circle. the moon; a circle. the compass; a circle. the rhythm; a circle. death; a circle. you; a circle. everything; a circle. everyone; a circle. all; a circle. infinity; a circle. nothing; a circle. always; a circle. always; a circle. always; a circle. circle of circles.

almost. there. almost. there. almost. there. almost. the constant rushed or lingering presence of time. the invariable needing. the skeletal embrace. ghost flesh memory. this feels familiar. i must have dreamed you before many times. i watched your eyes reflected in mine the night we couldn't touch. sharing the same visions. shaking our heads and speaking without uttering a single word. delicate mental thrusts. i, remembering. we knew. it's crystalline now. inevitably, you.

mesmerism of morphing clouds just the right shade of gray. scrying. waiting. attempting to steady my soul in this quiet solitude. it's hard to say how it happened, or why. only time will tell. for the risk has been made.

in my journal, without thinking i began writing. in french, i wrote,
"parce que. je suis fatiguée. parce que. je suis desolee. et rien. rien à rien. mon amour. mon coeur est manquant."

(self. untitled screenshot, 2012.)

gutter. you could take me. my valves feel like scum--(and i bet they look like you on the inside)

in a
land of
constant pianissimo,
you are
a symphony--
the most
brilliant crescendo.
and i
cannot cease
this tremolo
of you
i'm holding
inside me.

black. the black consumes the way black circles. on nothing nothing remembrances. heart. utterly black numb looking. full between. and the full soul vacant of vacant is too beat. secret. nothing and moonwhite between. heart. heart. must beat. beat. black who echos between. must be between. is the of between. i of interior inseparable and so shadows sleep. i sleep. had eyes. crying. us! inseparable and crying. had deserted the eyes. everything. to you and of you. of slipped sleep. the sleep. we knew the way to the interior. shadows of interior i couldn't photograph. crying. you interior. over our game. inseparable shadows hid and so i knew we were a photograph. we hid everything. o, slipped shadows, sleep. sweet waking. in eyes of a sleepy no-life. everywhere. the diminishing head. and dreams. blank. brainwashed. diminishing days, obsolete eyes everywhere. light of directions. death. waking all the stars. like the sleeplessness. dreams. and brainwashed of sleepy disease. worn-out with memories. life everywhere. eyes sticky of memories. tell breath my pointless swallow is invalid. tell breath i want to be a cloud bank.