Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

she loved to see the changes gyrating off her hips in the sunlight- accross the grassy fields the birds were watching her =she wondered if she would be here a long time- in the hot sun- or if this was really some sort of dream-the things she saw- didnt make sense anymore- blasted in a spiral like nature- the images- the faces- wispy like tissue paper in some strange wrappings= she Knew the fields here- and the soil- it was with her- under her skin- the sun beat on her hard lean back- she planted and weeded and baked- she was quiet these days- saw something that changed her -and that something made it possible to walk thru walls accross vast spaces and times bodiless and filled with fire a purpose- she has to hide amidst a family of highly dramatic people- it would seem that there was a mask for every occasion- 0ui- madame- -
the country of nigeria and the kissing on the forehead- moaris touching foreheads- only in america do they want to 'shake hands' ha she was being hidden by those that knew what she could do- they tolerated her - loved her- wished she would be quiet--
ha ha aha she laughed alot- it made people uncomfortable because they were not sure what she was laughing at- something she saw - ahead of now- or something in the present- she smiled- like a cat with a bird in its throat-

Hold onto that writing prose style; it serves you well

like wednesday adams she says'pass the salt NOW PLEASE' the goth inner child is playing with her food-and the little girl is frustrated with what seems like fuddy duddies in the living room- they are boring- and i - want to have some fun- star gazing and walking in the dark was fun-the whole being on the computer all the time has her wanting to cut the heads off the roses-off with thier heads- akward- it is unfriendly to want something different than what is being offered- whatever she says

it should be mine- she thought- yet in fact it was never hers- it was borrowed- it was a dress that did not fit- it is the shoes that seem like they should be on a lifeless manikin and a victoria secret model- even if she never ate another meal again- couldnt be that thin- the media says she should like to have six inch heels under her feet- that she should wake up and paint her face- put some green eyeliner inside the eyelids- maybe she can see better with it- the sickness comes and goes- the wanting to be something that disney and lancome created just does not work- years later while at the chiropractor-she would remeber even running in those high heels-

i wanted out- there was no fixing this- asking someone what they feel-because clearly they are 'holding on' to some energy- ya can feel it- like a knife cutting thru the room- like a thick fog on the highway- been living in real close quarters with my community- sometimes i cannot breathe- it is so fucking heavy- i never used to give a flying fuck really - didnt take the time to get to know someones lil problems, kinks- defects- shortcomings- at the first sign of trouble i was out of there-and i know the look of the frightened child inside the adult woman that has to compete- she is competing with me- i get the looks of envy and jealousy- i get the fancy dancer peeking thru the moves- gauging her next motion- ever so slightly- the drum beats- the heart beats- the smell of coffee and a hallway presents itself- various choices- oh the sickness- whatever-
even people that love deeply have it- that - gottta achieve be better than you- out wit youy- outspeak you- why? i let you win- it was easier-the hallway- the places where the hurt just crawls undernneathe the bravado past the pride- past the differences- into a pocket of sadness- whenever anything went thru that door-she was displeased- she would get angry at herself- i left that door open again-nutz- anything to silience that voice- it is fine when anyone else is needy-but if i am- or if i ask ='are you mad at me?' how stupid is that? i wouldnt ask if i couldnt read it on your face- why? because i do not want to go to portland tonight that s why.....

Later told a tale about that trip to Portland / she said" be angry I am not going"

Thank you for this gift. Some of the thoughts you espoused are very similar to my own. I dont hear them from others much, if any. Smiles ear to ear.

being - doing- living- feeling- all of this stuff - is so mixed up- what was real to me- never seemed like it was real to other people- until i found my voice- started talking the way i saw it- oh yes certainly that have been a few thousand years and echoes away- my critics- the fat bitch that comes to ceremony that just cant wait to find something wrong with me- i just smile and agree with her- why- because she is a loose canon- back in the day- present day included- we didnt talk to 'cop callers and snitches, gossips and loud loose women- DRUNKEN MEN- because that was how ya got busted=- it is kind of about the company you keep- and sometimes- my own company is brutal and honest and real- and it hurts people s feelings- but it has to be this way- but i have learned a few things- i do not have to share myself with everyone- not to drink coffee- never tell a shrink what i really see and hear- and never doubt my intution, because people are lairs and i like them-[THEY DONT MEAN IT] when i want to like them- not in my face- not in my space-all the time- been married and in love way too many times- and i am grateful i dont have to 'get out ' or 'away' so i can breathe- tomorow i get to be all alone at home- that is priceless- i cannot wait-seriously-WITH MY PUPPY THAT SNAPPED THE PIN IN HIS BROKEN LEG- HE IS A REINCARNAITED FOOTBALL PLAYER- SHOW HIM A FRISBEE he goes NUTS-
too many people in a smalll house animals vsiitors etc= and i always end up living in places like this- ask my kids who are not kids anymore- they will tell ya-' ma- we dont want to hear about the energy'- so i do ceremony with natives and it keeps me pretty stoked- planning a surf trip - thanks buddy- KEEP IT WET

Love- laying in bed dying of cigarettes and ceremony and the most broken people I can imagine- and Clint Eastwood in the unforgiven" Fuck me hard- seriously- love? I have an entire security system in my life barricading love and intimacy - the only thing missing is the moat -- there is enough firewood for winter-

day in day out\
searching the skies for rain
temptations

wish it would rain

This is a summary of a married mermaid-ghost bride is what I call it

i guess i am fortunate - that my mate is what i write- my paintings and i - are traveling the spiritual highway- if you love me- it would be bet to let me know- - that is usually done with direct action/ enthuasim-energy- sweet smells of softness and warmth- yes these are the things that call to me- and i kind of wish i was not writing about love - thinking about love etc- time for a new topic- maybe a visit to the tree farm