Over the past two months, I have been very focused on promoting my poetry book that I’m really starting to miss taking photos =) As of next week, I plan to start having regular dates with my DSLR again.
While I don’t have any new photos to share, I thought I’ll share some cute, happy, adorable photos from my Vegas trip in December. These photos were taken at The Secret Garden of Siegfried & Roy at the Mirage Casino.
Curious, majestic, playful creatures swimming in the clear, deep blue sea, glancing at me, playfully, colliding with others happily, chasing toys, living life peacefully.
I watch them, with admiration and a little bit of jealousy. I only wish I could be just as happy, just as carefree.
I decided it was time to give my blog a facelift using a new theme. It’s not perfect. The large font bothers me a bit, but it does call more attention to the text and photos better than the last version. Let me know what you think! =) I appreciate your comments.
Her slippers weren’t made of glass
They were faded with stringy holes
Her dresses were made and simply sewn
From the remnants of old flour sacks
With much love and motherly care
Two things her life never did lack
Poor, loved and protected,
She was the sweetest of gullible
And with the voice of an angel
She sang throughout the town
Skipping from shop to shop,
Dancing in her patch-work gown.
Her life wasn’t full of glittery flair
But her eyes sparkled more than most
And though her hair wasn’t shiny gold
All the other girls envied her tresses
Her mother’s brush made doubly sure
It never tangled up into messes
‘Tis the story of a normal girl
Who could dance like no other.
Floating and fluttering; to and fro
I typically don’t open up my heart to discuss my relationships, but I feel like I need to get this off my chest. Over the past two months, I have been in an unhealthy on and off relationship with a man named TF. He’s ugly, he makes me ill and he oppresses me. I hope you never have to meet him or be involved with him. Yes, I’m selfish, I don’t want to share.
My mom had introduced us, brought him into our house. He had a scratchy voice and a depressingly dark aura. I felt a little sorry for him, but I definitely didn’t want to be involved. Yet somehow, he became attached to me and visited me every day. He kissed me on the lips, on the throat, on the chest. He made me hot, sweaty and feverish. I wanted to push him away, but I couldn’t stop him and I couldn’t stop myself. Even when I went out, he tagged along and made me miserable. I would often stay at home with him and skip out on hanging with friends, doing exercise, or going to poetry events. I even worked from home to satisfy his needs, telling everyone I was ill. He oppressed me and suppressed me. I hated him. I fought with him, I struggled with him and pushed him away. I was happy to be myself again.
That was in December. He came back in January and did the exact same thing. God, he is so ugly, I hate him! He won’t leave me alone! I learned some Chinese magic to counter his Dark Arts and then he left, but not for good. He came back again in the Lunar New Year as if to haunt me and taunt me and my Chinese magic. This time, he did it with full force and took away my voice. I could not talk for 2 days. Oppression, suppression, depression, he was the mastermind who kept me in bed with him all day long as he played with my chest from the inside. I whimpered in pain and sadness. I felt dirty and sick. I wanted to spit all over him, but instead I could only cough at my bedside. I was determined to break free from his grasp, once and for all. I poisoned him with Mucinex and he started to dissipated, little by little. I did not want to leave any memory of him behind, as I spit all his colorful gifts of green, yellow and brown mucus down the drain. Pretty soon, he will be long gone and forgotten and my days of darkness will be over.
February 20, 2015 – I am breaking up with The Flu.
I had my first official live reading on Wednesday, February 4th at Cafe Lift titled “10 Minutes of Poetry” where I joined a group of talented performers for the night.
Here, you can get a glimpse of my reading =)
Please note that you may need to be a follower of Cafe Lift on Facebook to properly see some of the videos.
My introduction poem Like No Other was under the theme “The Body & The Senses” and seemed to be a favorite among the crowd.
My second poem Ominous was under the theme “Dark Poetry” and is always a fun, psychological poem to read.
My third poem 30 Days of Beard was a memory from work and written based on testimonials from my male colleagues. The theme, of course, is “A Different Perspective.”
My fourth poem Forever Creating is a blank verse piece written in Creative Writing class. It falls under the theme “Inspiration & Creativity.”
The fifth and last poem of the night was Flying, based on a childhood memory. This poem falls under the theme of “Telling a Story.”
I haven’t written a poem since November, so I figured I should attempt to break out of my writer’s block. A while back I had asked my boyfriend to give me a topic and he had said, “write from the perspective of trash.” Initially, I wanted to write something romantic and nostalgic, like from the perspective of a broken pearl bracelet or a torn photograph, but it just wasn’t speaking to me tonight as I sat down to type. I thought I would end up with a comedic piece instead, but somehow, that wasn’t it either. In any case, I’m happy with the result. =)
Teddy’s Story
Arms and legs spread out,
the sun kissing
my chocolate brown fur
on a lovely summer day
as she went to play,
letting me sunbathe
all alone, in the middle
of the driveway.
When I heard a sound,
vibrations on the ground,
massive tires before me,
roll over, paralyze my knees,
“Daddy, no, please!”
She screams. My life
flashes
before me…
Many memories
of tea parties,
decked in a dress
embarrassed to be me.
She made me pretend
to be a girlie teddy.
Time and again,
we played school.
She talked to me
and her imaginary
buddy.
She loved me…
I felt her hold me,
her glistening tears fell
over my furry body.
“He’s dying,” she cried
as cotton beads
came out of me
and I felt deflated
and ripped and ugly.
“It’s too late,” Mom said,
“He’s too dirty.”
Little by little,
Mom pries me away,
away from my Susie May
with half my beads
still on the driveway
and I fall
down and down
into an abyss
of musky darkness.
I can hardly breathe.
I can hardly see
the trash around me:
soiled papers, rotten veggies,
banana peels, nut shells.
The stench consumes me,
the flies buzz around me,
I continue to bleed
cotton beads…
Dreaming
of my life to be
in a sea of trash,
worthless, neglected,
tire-marked,
broken, alone –
a smelly Teddy
in a landfill
of hopeless memories.
Then I hear a voice,
the sound of an angel.
She was blond, disheveled,
damaged, dirty, but still
a pretty Barbie.
She smiles and says,
“I’m glad I have company.”
I never envisioned that my poetry would inspire someone else to create a piece of art, so I was surprised when a talented friend of mine (Patrick Lydon) decided to write some music based on a poem I had written. Both the poem and the music were created in 2009.
It’s relaxing to drive
under the sprinkles,
listening to the radio
as you watch the rainbow
come out of the golden-vanilla sky
that’s semi-polluted
with chemicals
and you think to yourself,
“what a wonderful life.”
A road full of strangers
with one common goal,
the desire, the need, the want
to go some place,
to belong somewhere.
As they move forward,
spurts of water
splash your window,
blocking your vision,
leaving you behind.
The sky becomes grayer.
Life becomes bluer
as you stare at the massive freeways
looming above your head,
realizing how beautiful,
strong and solid they are,
how small and fragile you are,
sitting in your stylish little car.
And The Fray comes on,
“You found me, you found me …
lost and insecure.”
I came across this challenge and decided to post some photos that I took in Las Vegas last month. These are my favorite night shots that don’t contain the Eiffel Tower 🙂
As a Photography Major in college, I took many photo classes and discovered that my most powerful pieces were the the ones that spoke to my soul. These pieces usually incorporated elements of my poetry and they illustrated who I was as a person. I mainly do art for myself, and not so much for others, so I think my friend was right on when he said I was an “artist” and not a “designer.”
The following pieces were part of a project I did in Alternative Photography (if I remember correctly)
Inverted Photo Collage on Transparency Black & White Photography Photo Collage on Transparency Black & White Photo with Tissue Paper Black & White Photo Collage
Curious, majestic, playful creatures swimming in the clear, deep blue sea, glancing at me, playfully, colliding with others happily, chasing toys, living life peacefully.
Whisperings 