DeviantArt
i’ve been doing allot of thinking and not much interneting, as you’ll have noticed. i’ve been thinking allot about identity and humanity and all of those things under your skin and how we express those things in our art, in what we write, the way we move, the things we say when we don’t think about saying them, i’ve been thinking about the things that make me who i am- woman, boy, artist, romantic, addict, compulsive, mother, child, slut, dyke, libertine, whatever.
any which way, i’ve been loosing my self in other peoples self portraiture recently, the real self portraiture, none of this myspace crap, the kind that captures a life tome of experience in one single image, the lovers and the long nights alone, the things they’ve been taught and the things they’re trying to forget, everything. i just love it.
i am back at college now, and i won’t go into detail about it all, but we have no resources whatsoever, to do anything with. the school has been spending thousands on building new rooms for the language and maths and i.t and english lit students. and we’ve got nothing in our one grey room behind the gym, not even a working tap to wash up with.
on the brighter side of things i’ve found a couple of new people, people who love their cameras also, and we’ve got big plans.
i admit this is pasted from a dA journal, it could be the other way round, either way, everyone is informed now i leaveyou with new photo :)
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
I am under seige. And as usual when my own reality is threatened, I squeeze myself into the smallest space possible. I am writing this from my wardrobe, probebly a few days before it’ll get to my blog. there’s a peice of paper bluetacked to the wall here, with a poem on it, ‘love after love’ it must have been years ago i put it here, but i know now why i had to keep it, so i could find it today. and it’s such a comfort to me. i feel as if everything inside of me is changing, and i don’t know who i’ll be when it’s over, like a belated or second puberty. sat in the bath with my knees pulled into my chest, thinking how funny my feet look under the water, i do my best not to look at my body, because it’s not mine, and i can’t understand how it got here. i’m down the rabbit hole now. i’m picking up speed. darkness light darkness. jars.
