I'm working on a letter series where in which I'll write to people of the past, present and future. The first one will be up on Monday at noon EST. Happy Friday. x
Go forth, with dignity and optimism with love and kindness with hope. Go forth, knowing that you are strong but can, and will, become stronger, wiser, happier, better. Go forth with star in your eyes, dreams in your head and ambition in your hands. Remember, as much as New Years are known for their "new... Continue Reading →
Frida Kahlo Rene Gruau Henri de Toulouse-Latrec J.M.W Turner Caspar David Fredrich Jean Michel Basquiat Camille Piassaro Agnes Cecile Gil Elvgren Diane Arbus Donna Ferato Cindy Sherman Mark Rothko Mies Van Der Roche Gustav Klimt Henry Moore
Places I go to write
682. For the all the colourful flowers that grew out of darkness- and to all the poisonous weeds I snipped at their roots.
Leaf: An excerpt from Porridge: A Memoir
Leaf Freshly baked bread dangled before pigeons. The colour orange and its place in the sky. My big forehead and Daddy’s coconut tree. Pears, peanut butter and August twenty-sixth. Happiness, lies and goodbyes. Smiles, frowns and art making. Seductive, fearless, indecisive. Norma Jeane’s Marilyn Monroe. A metaphor for the things alive inside me. Skin, fat... Continue Reading →
I used to think wish joy and happiness were things that could be captured and contained, than I realized that they are the result of combing circumstances. Some smiles are too big to fit into jars.
I think of the light we find when the tunnels around us are dark, and how much brighter it seems when we are so far away from the daylight. It reminds me of a wisteria seed, which once exposed to light will cultivate like never before. And suddenly, we are consumed.