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 18, 2010

and so it begins...

stumbled across this first thing.


yesterday, with all my pictures back in my care, piled in to the car, i drove back across the golden gate bridge in to the wide green of the countryside. the light, all yellow. the light, all golden. tunnels to honk a horn in. and still, the heavy sadness. again, the heavy sadness. strange how that emotion staples itself to even good decisions.

i have not lost sight of the positivity of this action. my words and my face and my name and all the things that pour out of my hands are mine. mine alone. and maybe it's the alone part i don't like. it is scary sometimes. but i am reaching toward it and trying to be fearless, trying to look at nothing else but THE FACTS and THE FACTS are that i love what i do, i believe in it and i want to live inside it every single day and i want to see where these tangled roads lead. i want to find a deep courage within myself and i want to hold tight to integrity and love and honor. there will be sacrifices. yes yes yes there will be. lots. and lots of times when i feel afraid and incapable of rising to the challenge in front of me.

our fair elisabeth left a comment yesterday about the need for space. i readily agreed with her because i felt deep in my heart that it is true. and her comment stuck with me for the rest of the day. it followed me to bed. and as i lay there, wrapped in a black quilt, smelling the graphite in its pocks and dimples, under the black of eyelids, i realized i'm afraid of having lots of space. i'm afraid of claiming something i desperately need. my tendency/training kicks in and i feel i am being selfish. or just plain lonely.

it is a lonely road at times, but here i am. and i will allow myself the privileged/necessity to scream in my new wide-open space if i need to. i will allow myself the luxury of making an ass of myself if i need to. and i will roll around in all these words and images and fears until the heat of my struggle and flailing makes them congeal, gives them form, sends sparks off my body and burns my eyes from their bright glare.

my friend said to me: i am so interested to see where you will go from here.

me too. i am summoning the courage for that battle right now.

crochet hook? check.
paint brush? check.
pencil? check.
punk rock? check.

and this day will awake with my two Miss Smiths: Patti and Kiki, side by side, hugs and middle fingers aimed at the world, poems tumbling and a winning smile. :)

the new road opens.

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