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.

May 5, 2010

it is not peaceful.

it is because i am the middle-child. text-book that way. secret keeper and all that. learning how to pick battles carefully. learned already. and the great mass of information that i have, quiet and still under the line of the water. beneath. asleep. maybe not asleep. maybe not anymore.

the slow advance.

the cycle of thawing and freezing. melt a little. re-freeze. let the slush find its way back to ice. it is infinite. steady. sturdy. silent. a killer dressed in white. lace at the neck. it only looks soft.

middle child
15" x 22"
graphite on paper
angela simione, 2010


Alesa Warcan said...

Only looks soft, but in fact has dirty looks that can sink ships.
Good morning Angela.

Alesa Warcan said...

And if you're worried about the dirty looks, just wait til you feel her right hooks!

angela simione said...

hahaha! good morning, alesa!

dirty looks and right hooks! i love that! <3

Radish King said...

Oh yeah. More powerful than I ever imagined. Good bog. I was so busy today I never got to even come here! This the underneath Irving's undertoad is bumping into my thighs. I can feel that. All that is hidden. Yes the black secrets. All of it. Godknows what is down there. Ia m ramblig now andtyping funny. I need to look some more. But it bumps at me. In my sleep and when I drive. Jesus.

Radish King said...

ps. in a way it looks like destroyed art too. A poem crumpled up the tossed aside.

angela simione said...

"A poem crumpled up the tossed aside."

geez... that is the metaphor to beat. ;) your crystal ball is flawless and all-knowing.

there is another iceberg waiting in the wings. sooooon. it bumps me in my sleep too.

wv: fable.

fitting. :)

thank you, my dear friend.

Radish King said...

They make a low crunch noise when they move. It vibrates like the bell of contra-bassoon in a Baroque church. That throat noise. Beethoven loved it. First note of the scherzo 9th symphony. Just a contra-bassoon note one note hanging there. People hold their breath because there's something and that something is the contra vibrating the floor up the seats and into the peoples' bodies. The body is a great conductor.

This is a Beethoven painting. So was the fierce love dog.

WV: ingig in gig inge

angela simione said...

(((my friend)))

i don't know what to do with a compliment of that size!!!!!

21k said...

I LOVE this.

angela simione said...

thanks, D!!!!!!! :D it became one of my favorites about half-way through working on it.