Archive for the ‘Week 01’ Category
Like the Perfect Lover, You Never Change and are Always Waiting
Tiresome
stuck in an olive tomb
brittled siphons
in reverse
and in the same way as the infidel husband treats his whore
I bend a part of my body
you slide into me
they say that the worst thing
about addiction
is the lack of control
but they are wrong
the worst thing about addiction
is that you are always in control
always in control
“Eat Cupcakes Please” – Letters to an Alter Aspect of Me
And so if I should everyday approach as if today could be the last day, then – each day I will do exactly what brings me desire- and create that I only ever border upon the line of extravagance and over indulgence- yet mastering the approach of excellence, elegance and eccentricity.
If I had to ask myself, as I peered in the mirror of the wide eyed five year old reflection of the former me, If I could choose the path – with dreams in that heart as big as the sea, and no way of knowing yet how hard they would be, or easy it would be to be disbelieving – where would I DESIRE to go? What life was I wishing for, and where did I want to be.
If I could equate that sweetness of open dreaming to a scent or a taste if you will – it would be sweet warm vanilla cake with melted white chocolate lava in the center – topped with ice cream – the mix of hot and cold, the succulent scents of vanillas, the burst of creams and sugars – the comforting aroma of heaven –
That’s the way it feels to me when dreams are big. Can I say now, that I am – the girl I was wishing, am I living the life I was wishing to live?
I think as wind whips through my hair as I greet the day ready to embark upon a road trip. Today will be met with open thoughts, contemplation, problem solving, creating – oh yea, and of course Wild Mushroom Rav’s and cupcakes ❤ – – Love Tip #1 – ALWAYS – set days aside to be extravagantly decadent, because all should treat themselves.
I must write these thoughts to the alter aspect myself, that asks me to not be a part of those dreams, or who tells me from time to time that I’m not “good enough” – what is that? It’s all but perspective as with art, so I promise myself
To stay in contact with, and write letters to– to that “girl” or “guy” to everyone out there – as a reminder of the reasons I find that the world is beautiful, we are love, or just every time I get down on – a really good cupcake
Yours Truly,
A.
So, I’ve got to admit I cheated a bit on this one. I didn’t think the deadline would be till next week so I wasn’t very prepared. So this week I continued working on a project I started forever ago and have yet to finish. It’s based on the poem “We Are Many” by Pablo Neruda. It was originally for my International Lit class, but I had to use something else since I never finished it on time (obviously).
There’s still a lot I have to do to clean everything up and pull it together, but this is it so far. Definitely starting something new for next week though.
I drive by this scene twice a day. Friday April 1st, was the first time I have seen it look so good. I have envisioned this shot and I patiently waited for the snow to cover everything just like it did on this past Friday. I can now move on and scout out some other shots.
It’s going to be a fun 52 weeks! Cheers!
Each of my Picture’s Worth images includes a quotation. I’m inviting everyone to leave alternate quotation ideas in the comments of each week’s submission. (Just be sure to attribute the quote to the person who said it.) Perhaps I’ll use some of the alternate ideas when I create my greeting cards from the images I create during TGAP!
Navigating Loss
There is no rationalizing ones self
Out of true grief. It is there,
Pervasive and insistent in all
You do. As you scoop the catbox, or
Redecorate the dining room, it has collected,
A puddle of piss, in some sharp
Corner of the room that beats,
In wait of a lucid moment.
And a little daughter’s righteous
Anger (new haircuts, cleaned
wounds, fed pets) at the world and ugly
Decaying Mr. Death will not
Cloak her from this drizzle
of fop and circumstance
that pools around her
motionless ankles.