Wild in transition.

I planted a bunch of seeds in my office this winter to try to work through a period of transition that I was experiencing. I bought them lights, watered them, talked to them often, over nurtured them...tried. Now that the sun has been high in the sky and the season is right...they are all growing wildly.

Lesson learned. No matter how much you try, you can't force anything to blossom in the wrong season. Even yourself. You can plant the seeds. You can fill them with intention. But, until the time is right it's mostly about sowing hopes and waiting.

So, now I'll be thinking about the seeds I want to plant in my own life for the next season. What do I want to harvest when the time for growth has come to an end and it's time to store my energy up for the next natural transition?

Quoted. Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing

“Do you ever feel that way?"
I search for the words. "Restless. As if you haven't really met yourself yet. As is you'd passed yourself once in the fog, and your heart leapt - 'Ah! There I Am! I've been missing that piece!' But it happens too fast, and then that part of you disappears into the fog again. And you spend the rest of your days looking for it."
He nods, and I think he's appeasing me. I feel stupid of having said it. It's sentimental and true, and I've revealed a part of myself I shouldn't have.
"Do you know what I think?" Kartik says at last.
"Sometimes, I think you can glimpse it in another.” 
― Libba BrayThe Sweet Far Thing


"this is a dead zone. brackish and black. a hope i cling to because the darkness is deadly. but not more eventual than this ending. I've illusioned myself into this. flashing light into nothing and calling it art. you want me drunk, opened mouthed, and utterly silent. twisted around your need to feel desire. d. "
art museum 2017


Press the seed of this story just inside my lips
I will nurture it with warm breath and a low hum
Let it dance from the tip to the cup of this tongue
Then tuck it safe inside my cheek for later
When it's time to swallow it whole


I don't know if I am more taken by your words, or by the space around them.

Little armoured one.


You've presented me with the Kaleidoscope, the Cactus, and the Armadillo.

A year to see things differently.
To learn the art of not overdoing it.
And to know how to protect myself.

You are beauty, balance, and boundaries.

And I'm here for 365 spins of the sun.


Little armoured one,

The beauty is inside.
Turn around and spin in the light.
You have what you need within you.
May your own brilliance refract and overflow.


What if we weren't divided
And we realized that lines were meant for geography
not for unity
Coordinates to help us find each other, not lose sight of one another
And borders for holding things together
not for keeping them apart
What if the state we were in was humanity
And each person held equal weight
Because gravity doesn't take into account fear, origin, or acceptance
Even though all this hate feels too heavy to bear
What if we blurred the lines
and realized that we all came from the same energy
and we will all be laid to rest in the same ground
What if the flag we waved was surrender
A flash of white, like the clouds that blanket this entire planet, that let's everyone know they can close their eyes, safe in their skin
No matter where their human ship landed in this world