Revisit,Rewrite,then spill

I often get inspired by the photographers that I work with. Sometimes I visit their work and wish that the photos were not of me, but taken by me, so that I would not look so egotistical by surrounding myself with them. I honestly get bored of looking at myself. Anyway, when I am not “being over” myself I get inspired by minute details of a photo that I may have missed before, or a line from a random “napkin poem” makes it’s way to my consciousness, while updating my portfolio, then PADOW! I’m newly inspired for another five minutes and I try to catch it and this time, fortunately actually blog it.

So, that was a lot of build up for my “napkin poem photographer envy,” but here is the result. I forced myself to write the first sentence of the book, poem, script, I am going to write. This was it.

“Northwest Invasive Plants” -this is a working title lol

Black chipped nail polish lazily slathered a top mermaid blue, also chipped. Half shadowed by manicured evergreens, an invasion. Northwest black beauty, blackberry. Thorns red, and blistering into shiny tips awaiting a frail lacey breeze to tangle, squeeze, juice the sweetest ever tasted, spilled drop by drop onto  own leaves.

She Spills


Shout out to Byrd Waters for a random rainy day photo date.



…for the art of it


Byrd Cage


My chest is too tight

so leave me to my own unraveling.

Your single thread hold has nothing on my decades of  undoing

of self, from the outside in.

Charmed into your vortex

disguised as maturity, mistaken for care,

reminded of all of the __________ before you.

My chest is too tight and my breath is short.

I don’t need your help dying

I know how deep to cut, I’ve done this before

Your dull blade is cruel.

You insist.

My chest is too tight, my breath is short, and you are heavy.

I hold this weight in my throat,

careful not to swallow, not to regurgitate.

Choking on the tight, short, heavy.

Cutting the string with the dull blade.


Byrd Cage

Photo Credit: Byrd waters



…for the art of it.