Some of My Recent Poetry and Artwork

 Signs

I don’t know him very well:

I know he’s read Kafka and Marx.

 

I don’t know him very well;

I know he is a bit younger than me

And much quieter.

 

I don’t know him very well;

I know he is passionate

About music

And talented.

 

I don’t know him very well;

I know he kisses gently

As though awaiting a further invitation.

The kind of polite kiss that says

He is cautious.

 

I hardly know him at all!

Bad girl that I am,

I ruin everything

With my impulsive heart

Given thoughtlessly

To a near stranger.

 

I hardly knew him but I noticed

He was lonely when I was too,

Noticed that

He was handsome in his own way

Both of us uniquely marked,

Complimentary.

He seemed, in his reticence, to say everything.

 

I didn’t know him very well;

And In my ignorant bliss assumed that this was all

A sort of sign.

But I guess we failed to align

Because soon after that time

He disappeared.

 

Signs are funny like that,

An illusion of time and events

That gives one a sense of deeper meaning,

Always fleeting

As perspectives change…

 

Signs are funny like that,

Showing up in so many faces,

Or a peculiar set of scenery

An inkling of

Significance to be pondered.

 

I don’t know if

This was a sign or a waste of time,

But it’s igniting sparks of recognition within me

Like fireworks.

 

I don’t know if

I should feel sad

But I do feel glad.

 

I don’t need to know him

To feel gratitude for what he meant in my life.

 

Signs of growth.

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Making Music (kind of)

So I decided to record a bit of my music practice and put it on youtube. I’m not a huge Adele fan, but the song is fairly simple and fun to play.

I’ve always had a hard time making music. As someone who is a ‘natural’ in a lot of ways, struggling with my own self expression in music has been a point of frustration for me for years. I started playing guitar 6 years ago, and through lack of dedication and general confusion I’ve never managed more than a weak rythym guitar at best. I used to have the voice to make up for it, though I haven’t done any vocal training in years. As part of my new year’s goals (not resolutions, but goals!) I wanted to go back to making music, and it starts here and now. 🙂

Reflection: Art as a Way of Life

It’s a bit surreal to be blogging on the regular now. I’ve always thought it would be an interesting project to take on, but any number of excuses have stopped me from getting started on it before now. I’ve been busy working, busy with classes, busy making art, busy seeing friends, busy partying like it’s 1999 all over again, I had no internet access, no computer, no time… The real reason under all of that is lack of initiative, and a high level of uncertainty. Who is my audience? What makes me so interesting that anyone would want to read my blog? What even should I blog about? Excuse the phrasing, but I didn’t have my shit together.

GIF from Juxtapoz

or maybe I was partying like it’s 1499?

When I look back at the last three years or so, I am a different person. Not different really, but I was such a child. Always sticking my foot in my mouth (I don’t promise that I’ve outgrown that just yet), I was blind and aimless. I had no goals, no dreams beyond a longing for independence.

I try to look back often enough, so I can see how I’ve grown and improved, to ensure I keep growing and keep improving. It was a rocky path, it still is. But I stuck by the things I love, most of all my artistic outlets. I owe much of my personal evolution to it. There’s this idea among non-creating people, I hear it often when they talk about art. There’s the myth that art is all pencils to paper, brush to canvas. Like Genesis, the art just rushes forth, in all it’s complete detail, out of the void. Would that it were so simple!

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Art comes from love, pain, passion and fire. It comes from solitude and collaboration, from contemplation and from impulse. It’s a refuge within myself, where I go to celebrate my humanity. I think the thing I love most about it is that a piece of art is more than the sum of it’s elements. It’s never just a pencil, just paper, just a brush, a canvas, pastel, more than clay, more than glass, more than oil or acrylic. Art means something, even when it means nothing at all.