Bad Poetry is a term I use to refer to a series of tragic, ironic and consistent events that occur within a character's life, without conscious reason, but simply for the pleasure and entertainment of the Gods. It can be found on that particular morning when your alarm clock fails to go off, where you miss... Continue Reading →
I Forgot my Name (2015) is a mixed media work composed of a mixture of sentimental items including clothing tags, receipts, event tickets, important dates and old poetry. The work explores the ways in which tangible items are used to compensate for memory. The work is a self-portrait without formal characteristics: It recalls fragmentation and... Continue Reading →
819 My boyfriend was a warrior, in the street and in our bed, but his silent kisses were more painful than his infliction. Hot wax on my bare skin always reminds of good days, and bad too; I still can't tell them apart.
This is, like, my four hundredth hiatus. I know, I know I've been gone for faaar too long, but I promise you I have a million excuses. One being school, and another being work; In my short time of being gone (short?), I've attended two book launches, started a new series of novels and have... Continue Reading →
I don't remember the last time I cried in someone's lap,Or revealed a phobia in need of release. I'm not the type to get too close, Too friendly, too involved or too in love.I like my companions near but in the distance like a boat on the horizon. The irony is having a weakness about the inability to... Continue Reading →
Legacy Along the walls of the white cube, Are photographs From the life of Alvah Goldbook. They howl at strangers from their polished frames, And lonely places on the walls: Consoling, inspiring, revealing Nothing but mystery and mysticism. Portraits and papers from old cameras and typewriters Jagged, torn, worn and wrinkled, Once ripped—indifferently— By a... Continue Reading →