I think what lures me to use ink is the fact that it flows so naturally for me. Similarly to when I start writing on paper. They way it interacts with the materials is so stunning; creations become natural and unplanned. Mistakes can become tiny masterpieces and some mistakes can be hair pulling death sentences. It took me so long to become comfortable with drawing. I couldn’t find my voice. So when I first began using ink, it was like finding the right note to a song.
Oh tiny silhouette,
how delicate you must be.
Moving, shifting, crawling,
between the chain-link fence
Doing acrobatics from link to link
Tending to your home,
Simply in a second
your lungs are filled with toxin
up and up and away your legs go
bending, curling, breaking,
Contortionist in your own home.
Oh tiny silhouette
how delicate and dead you must be.
There is something about light casting through a wall or space that catches my attention.
The light that seeps through crevices and holes and cast shapes onto figures create beautiful shapes. They are naturally occurring neon lights.
neon lights, flashing, dancing, reflecting.
the wires by my street that hover above me are so beautiful. a poem and photo
Continue reading “Electrical Nights”
poetry. don’t leave me, while I’m sleeping. wake me up so I can see you one last time.
Continue reading “Bittersweet Epitome”