memorial day

you know it's time to sleep but sometimes i see the world
i see myself as a girl....
all the time and i don't know why it doesn't feel okay.
this feeling of sadness is better than the nothing
and the nothing's crept inside to equal something that's a lie
a numb and eerie cry for
....anything more.

stuff i type into my phone while i move

Cus being in transit is my only therapy....it's where i do my best brainstorming and where I feel most free. Being on my journey is when I'm really me....

Creativity runs free.....
when the work is coming in. my whole life i never liked pastel colors, i never liked blue. These days pale aqua and pink, colors that are so light they are barely colors....all mixed together against mean black leather but only when dispursed through sepias, vintage textures, decay and full of stories to tell. Flowers and plants but overgrown and only in colors that flowers don't come in. There is a house i walk past with a black vintage bathtub out on the sidewalk full of potted plants. I wondered why they felt safe leaving it out there cus I wouldlove to have that tub but then I considered the process of removing it and how hard it would be to get away with. I did carry a street sign 7 blocks away from the house I used to live in. It took two people but I sure was a part of it. I still can't ride a bike, at least not drunk.

Dear Philly dear....

Trees, let's also love trees and green grass.

Let's love the views we see. Sometimes it's the dirty sea from the top floor of a casino hotel but the skies are still clear blue and promising....from the city it's rooftops and graffiti, lost people and stray cats, and the pink tree in front has inspired me to fill my life with flowers and trees...and color. Lights and textures and breahts of fresh air, inspiration....dreams and rebirth. A connection with the life around me, an infatuation with everyday encounters.

From california hills to the falling leaves of the east coast...the intimidating crowds of new york city summer, the view of it from a cold winter mountain, from across the river, from a lonely window...now i'm alone in my window not able to get enough of the solitude, soaking up my freedom and my independant thoughts, basking in the small city's glow where my creativity transforms into revinue. Revinue that will support my life and well being, keep me alive in body and mind but also in spirit and light. Small city keep me alive....

The Sky...

is light nightmonstr green above the bricks and the blowing tree limbs, its 3am and she's cooking veal. He's passed out drunk on the leather couch, done with his vaporizing cigarettes. I'm alone in this big sinking bed with the fan on watching a club drug movie and letting the raindrops hypnotize me. I'll be waking up too tired with a mission to get new shoes so i can wait tables without slipipng. Soon i'll be a star.