April 11, 2016 - Different Types
(Reposted from 2011)
Stories
March 21, 2016 - Small Difference
Kimya Dawson … a girl comfy in her difference. (Reposted from 2012)
March 20, 2016 - Army of Ink Monkey Grip
Sometimes people tell me what to see – but I know what I saw.
Footnote: As a kid, I used to hang upside down on the monkey bars, get a swing up and then release my legs, flip and land on my feet in the soft white sand – like a cat. This ink could be about about hanging on with a firm grip on of all that might be pulling her off in a direction that’s not her own. And evoking that feeling of release that comes from the moment when she trusts in herself so strongly that she lets go and flies …
(Reposted from 2010. In Clunk & Jam, 2019 book)
March 2, 2016 - My Place
My Place .
Truth is my sanctuary. A place I enter by trusting there is another place I can be. It’s slow. A little reclusive. Painful and confronting because I’m keeping company with emotions I’ve spent my life trying to escape. Vulnerable, because I’m sitting in my insecurities. Pursuing what I deeply care about. Unsettling, because life, through the eyes of truth, reveals both the beauty and the beast of it. Overwhelming, due to the acceptance of personal responsibility to create a life that soothes the pain of truth – nurtures new growth.
Lonely, from conceding that ultimately it is self-reliance that will create and secure my destiny. Sad, from accepting my past is over. Compassionate, from the realisation that I cannot effortlessly accept myself. And acknowledging the degree of consciousness it’s going to take to be content with who I am. Liberated, because the time has come to move – and from having the freedom to explore what awaits.
A stillness, from reaching a place where I feel more comfortable being different than fitting in. Where I feel a calm but intensely emotional sense of coming home.
Poem from book, ‘In My Room’. Artwork Ash Browne. Design Harley Manifold.
January 5, 2016 - Army of ink Wish Upon A Cake
Wish Upon A Cake .
I once wished upon stars. Books with crosses. As the white man stole birthdays. Red man pretended. Black collars wrapped around truth. Now I wear the hat that makes me taller than the glaring. Stays on as I rattle my little box. Make sticks come alive. Hard things run. Soft things dance with my breath. Spin circles that wrap all the way around me. And everything disappears .
(Clunk & Jam book, 2019. Originally in handmade book, ‘Rock The Boat’.)