these texts are an archive of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area from march 2007 - march 2015. it stands as a record of close to a decade of my life, charting the struggles i faced as an artist, daughter, and lover. messy and chaotic at times, eloquent and poetic at others, these texts are an index i am proud of. it was here in this electric box that i learned how to be honest about my experiences and the person i needed to become. it was here that i first learned the truism that words make the world and how to trust such a beautiful, rife, hard fact.

thank you for meeting me here in such tall grass.


my artist website is here.

Aug 17, 2009

home...

it isn't that i've been sad lately, just feeling quiet. feeling still. going through the little that remains to be gone through- relics, nic-nacs, objects. it always wakes something up. always. but there are so few ghosts left this time around that it is a happy battle. the chaos i threw our home in to a week ago is almost reined in. i'm making myself go slow, putting things back or out the door thoughtfully. whenever i begin to feel anxious or overwhelmed by the task, i lug my canvasses outside and paint. today 3 big crows lined up on the driveway and watched. it was odd but comforting too and they were silent- no heckle and jeckle taunting as i pushed the oil round and round and stretched it out and out and out. now i am making myself a set of new potholders. yep. :) crocheted in the bastard stitch. black with a grey heart smack in the middle.

2 comments:

Radish King said...

Crows have human facial recognition, so if they're there to watch, then they are actually there to watch. They know you. I find great comfort in this.

love,
Rebecca

angela simione said...

wow! i didn't know that! they're normally up in the trees yelling and chasing each other, flying around in circles. i see them every day but they've never hung out on the ground before.

this makes me happy!