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Thursday, 13 November 2008

Wednesday, 12 November 2008

  • ......

    because blue eyes

                      are just drops of water

            overflowing on the page.

      they call us sage.

      they call us.

    come this way         we walk to park benches    to sit and stay and walk away.

    and this somber green...

             full of gray

                      is sage. we're sage.

         but we don't stay.... we stay

    to walk this way          down the page                 are park benches and puddles

               i am tarnished ivory trinkets on your dresser

              you leave me in dust

            your very special thing

                 that you will put in a box

                                                                         and there i'll stay

    blue eyes are merely

                                     water droplets

          that glisten as they float away

Monday, 10 November 2008

  • So I can have my art show...woo

    The lack of excitement is intended. He doesn't like how gestural my drawings are, the exact thing I love about them. So now I have change them to pass my show. I'm not sure if any of you understand how violating that feels. I would rather him tell me that I suck and am not ready for a show than tell me I have to completely change the style of my drawings. I'm not really sure where artistic license comes in here. I don't get the point of doing art by some set of stylistic rules. My drawings are proportional and descriptive. They are not overly abstract but painterly. Of course they have some areas that need to be fixed, but to have to smooth out every mark and blend every shadow? I don't even know how to draw like that. I feel like I'm accounting or something equally boring and mathematical.

    Seriously, I would rather just be sucky than sloppy. I don't care about what art schools look for in a portfolio. I don't want to go to art school. I don't want to make art if I'm going to hate it. Everytime I look at one of the drawings right now I want to either throw up or scream really loudly.

    I cried for a half an hour after the meeting and then made myself stop and went to dinner.

    Carol took me to get Birthday Cake Remix from Coldstone. She knows me. No other ice cream would have enticed me. I just want to sleep. I want to forget I'm even supposed to have a show. I want to write my papers for my other classes for teachers that are fueling my passions instead of suffocating them. I want to take back this past night during which I didn't sleep so I could be told my work was "a start".

    I just feel really angry. I don't like feeling angry. I don't like complaining posts that nobody wants to read. But I've got to let this out somehow, and I'm not sure that crying for the next week and being rude to everyone so they won't see me cry is a good option.

    Oh grace...

    And all will be well. and all will be well. and all manner of things will be well.

    We're all yearning for something more.

Friday, 24 October 2008

  • October 22

    on a hill of precise grass

                                  Jack and Jill spun

           their tiny mountain

                                                    and they could feel the world

                                                     in the glowing horizon

                                                                                                                 in the glitter

    they lost Orion

                                    and time

                                    at once

                                    memory moment and dream

           a shooting star!

                                                                                    the face of God!

    little girl, little boy could see

     

    yes, baby philosophers

                  learning to be

     

                                                                                                                   Jack and Jill spun

     

    words resonate in the dark night

    on hills of heavenly height

    for the God-seekers

    some say deep-thinkers

    children will worship truly

    whispering God speaks to me

     

    oh, Lord, my God

     

    a small congregation

    one part of a nation

    speak as they should

    God is good, God is good

    now silent, now saying

    this uncommon praying

     

    the world thy hands have made

     

    midst the stars hushedly

    they worship earnestly

    on the unmoving grass

    attend children's mass

    and wander as they wonder

    towards cities resting under

     

    through out the universe be praised

     

            unfamiliar lights

                      break the sacred meeting

       and tumbling

                     tumbling

            hurried leaving

    in rushing breath, breathe meaning

     

    Jack and Jill descend

Tuesday, 21 October 2008

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fallingharmony

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    • Name: Kaitlin
    • Country: United States
    • State: South Carolina
    • Birthday: 6/9/1986
    • Gender: Female
    • Member Since: 10/1/2002

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  • I'm a daydream addict with my head in the trees.

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