Drown me in a glass that is half full, your optimism will kill me.
My Practice & Me
Have I mentioned that I'm not just a collage artist? I suppose it seems that way considering all I ever post is collage work and poetry; but not too long ago my practice dwelled in watercolour and ink. I look at my old portfolios now and I'm sort of taken aback by my change. Also,... Continue Reading →
November: An Excerpt from Porridge: A Memoir
November My heart is broken and I don’t know why. I never gave it away after him. Inside my chest, it hurts And I panic Because I cannot reach inside And stitch is back together Without killing myself. My mind is unraveling as my heart rots away I don’t understand the words that come from... Continue Reading →
Grab a Bowl
Good things come to those who wait. My ass.
Famous Last Words 