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.

Dec 10, 2010

"we are already ghosts"

her last post, very much a memento mori, bring shivers and shakes and that familiar, sad pull of helplessness. the hum in the back of your throat, the unanswerable why? i found out from rebecca yesterday that poet cami park has died. the news made my hands shake. i valued her and her work and her presence her in blogland. she and i had corresponded a few times and i sent her one of my prints and she had blogged about my work... i really, truly, deeply liked her. i wanted to know her better...

rebecca wrote a shivering post about cami's death. and then this morning, another post reminding us that the connections we make here in this strange world of text and light are just as real as the connections we make in the physical realm. maybe even more real, more true sometimes.

all these reminders recently of mortality, the shortness of time, the quickness, the rush, the spin. and illness. the tragedies that find us all, unbeckoned and unapologetic. my heart tears to pieces for her daughter. for her friends and family. for anyone who knew her and respected her. this, as winter rolls in. colder now because of her loss.

time is short. too short not to make as much art as you can and as many poems as you can and to fling these loves and fears and questions in to the world. too short to give too much of a fuck what others might say. do your best and GO.

i carry the sweet girl's name and words with me today, tonight, and on and on.

4 comments:

Hannah Stephenson said...

Heartbreaking. Very sorry to hear it.

angela simione said...

me too, friend. totally heartbreaking.

Angella Lister said...

i am so sorry. i wish i had found her before she died. you are lucky to walked a while with her, which i know is small comfort. you honor her by your love, which you express so poignantly.

angela simione said...

angela, thank you for the beautiful reminder- i am lucky to have known her, even if for a short while. very lucky. and we are all so very lucky that she was a writer. in that way, she is permenant. we have pieces of her gorgeous world that, amazingly, we are allowed to swim in and cherish. thank you. :)

(always great to meet another Angela)