When you make art, when you build a world, mundane details come alive and breathe soul into a scene. Dried paint on a fingernail, hairs out of place on top of a head, a bell that never seems to stop ringing…
Read More5:34 AM
personal
2024 Update
The more time I spend in love the more I ache to crack a window to let the fresh air in. Days melt into each other. I melt into you... but when I…
Read More(at urs after work)
Being in your room without you is sweeter than bitter.
The smell of your Akira shirt with a neck hole “too big” you say
(the one I wear to bed)
Your records standing still…
Read MoreLove, Daoism and Sobriety
My lover lives a few blocks away and is sleeping on his back in a soft bed. I’m not there but I know the fan is blowing and I know his blinds are lowered. The alarm clock in his room is glowing green. It reads “2:09” — that is two minutes ahead, to keep …
Read MoreReal Love
The day before yesterday, my partner was smoking out of the bedroom window. He sat up, kneeling on his drum throne with one hand outside in the white-cast, early evening mist. It was one of those gorgeous cool cloudy days that followed two weeks of thick muggy heat…
Read MoreUnraveling Solitude
Unraveling solitude
Like a gift from an unlikely friend
Surprise, but a familiar and welcome feeling.
I’m making space in my chest beside my heart
Or something like that.
Read MoreCreative Life and Work
I quit my job yesterday. Not because I no longer need the money, but because I think that if I were to have continued, I would be slowly chipping away at the carefully cut marble statue that is my sanity.
Read MoreThe Aftermath of People Pleasing
Last night, (still in burnout recovery) I lay facing up in my bed. My comforter is white with bold maroon stripes; my pillows don’t match, instead, they’re a solid bright firey red. Both windows were open, they’re the kind you unlock with a hinge and wind out, kind of like a book. They’re on the wall to the left of my bed, the openings are facing each other so, unfortunately, I’m not catching one bit of breeze. I had a fan blowing on the right side of my room. It’s the long upright kind that does too much while you sleep and too little when you’re awake.
Read MoreBurnout
I’ve just recently rearranged my room. It was one of those 2 AM manic sweaty cleans after a nine-hour shift. For two and a half hours I moved furniture while listening to Renaissance, Beyonce’s new album.
I didn’t realize until now, upon looking up at the ceiling, that my room is almost a cube, and so by default a rectangle I guess. When you walk in you can see my little black desk (given graciously to me by my boyfriend); beside it are my black Rokit 5s positioned on stands, and beneath them, foam isolation pads. They face the old chair I stole from the room over that I now use for my desk space. It has 4 silver wire legs and a back held together by zip ties. It’s not the type of chair you can comfortably lean back in (Hans pointed out to me yesterday) but I wouldn’t have ever known as I always sit in it cross-legged. It has a round furry red seat.
Read MoreA declaration
23/07/22:
I’m obliged to say that I love you.
Little things: the way you decorate your room, the absence of dust on flat surfaces. The way you fold my things neatly in a corner, both to avoid mess and so I won’t forget anything when I leave.
Your restlessness, your cool. The way you are with me, the me I am with you. I enjoy every moment, savor every second.
Even when my eyes are sewn shut and you’re tinkering away into the night, (unconciously) I do love that too.
And yet… I can’t tell you yet. I hope the message is read through my eyes and smile. Maybe in my hand on your waist or when I ask for a forehead kiss. In my passion and my patience when we speak, especially when I say “I miss you”.
Your mattress is very soft, like your spirit and like your heart. It’s why I prefer your bed [over mine]. It is like your love cradling me to sleep.