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, 2013

back in action!


fuck sensible shoes!  i've been bound to my bed far too long and in WAY too much pain to give a shit about that kind of tripe.  i stomped around oakland in these beauts for a cool 2 hours today.  dropped a new yarn bomb and mended another.  the passed few days have been absolutely fantastic.  each day will get better and better from here on out.

i can't tell you how good it feels to move again.  it'll be some weeks still before i can get back to running but my mood is skyrocketing regardless.  i am anxious to get back to work, back into the swing of things, back in to life.  today marks 3 weeks since this injury stalled my life.  all i want to do is be outside and be around people.  i've missed the buzz of life.  i've missed my long hustle to the train station.  i've missed taking pictures of the sky and being able to stand at my huge drawing pinned to my bedroom wall and just work.  i've missed the company of others and the jokes that get told in bars.  i miss all the late night alcohol-fueled confessions.  i've missed my life.

these first few ginger steps back in to the world had to be stylish, had to be brash and bit cavalier.  getting a few of the yarn bombs i made up in the city has felt so amazing.   doing it in leopard print booties makes it feel even better.  exhilarating, actually.  :) 

there is such a freedom in working on the street like this, in spending hours on a single piece and then giving it to the city itself... giving it away.  the photograph becomes an important thing.  the document of an act, an artwork, and a sentiment.  there's no way to determine how long these pieces will stay in place.  my hope, of course, is that they stay stitched tightly around the poles of street signs for years.  this is why i maintain them.  if they begin to sag after being rained on a few times, i stitch them tighter and straighten them out so they look crisp and clean again.  i want the messages of these texts to be as clear as possible.  legibility is a factor, as is style.  i will not allow the work to fall in to disrepair for as long as i live in this city.  i want these bits of poetry to have the best chance of survival possible.  i want the impetus to CRY HARDER to reach those who need the encouragement the most. 


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