Sabbath

I’ve done this many times

A million broken rhymes

Of getting where I got

From somewhere I was not

And smiling to myself

In my sickness and in health

Just watching what I do

Alone with me and me with you 

THE FEATURE: Rachel Wolfe, Photographer

I am very excited to feature artist Rachel Wolfe for her works in photography.  Looking through what I’m sure is just a drop in the bucket of her brilliance was an enriching, breathtaking, and humbling experience.  I quickly knew I would need another pair of eyes and recruited my sister, Sarah, to help do the very difficult but fun job of picking just a few photos from her personal website.  It was so clear to both of us, as we viewed each picture, that Ms. Wolfe walks through her life developing photos in her eye; noticing shapes, colors, shades, textures, and subjects.  Rachel captures in her photography what many of us see regularly, such as lint or rotten fruit peels, and transforms it into a piece of art that makes you feel.  Her work takes you along to the places this magnificent woman has been, showing you structures of ice, the most beautiful land and cityscapes, and a few of the faces she has come across in her life.  Sarah and I were absolutely blown away at how versatile she is as an artist, constantly changing her approach and having the pure talent of presenting each photo in a completely different light.   I thank each and every one of you with so much love for being here and encourage you to continue to support Rachel by hopping over to her website where you can see all of these and many more.  To you all, enjoy. [For your viewing pleasure, click the photos to enlarge].

Website: http://www.rachelwolfe.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/RachelWolfeIsAPerson

Special THANKS to you, Rachel, for giving me permission to share.  

All are original works of Rachel Wolfe, please respect the artist by remembering this

Journal Entry

Click to Enlarge 

Born

I touched the space between his eyes

To give the powers from the moon

Connected love from tip to mind

As light from windows filled the room

My soft lips pressed against his skin

Igniting worlds into his flesh

That lined the universe within

Insuring that his life was blessed

Salem

Was many moons ago

They hung me to my death

And from my lungs dispersed 

My last eternal breath 

In waking in this flesh

I am recalling me

When lived a life the year

‘Fore 1693

That time in this old world

My place within the stitch

Had earned the dreadful name

Of sinful, wicked witch

The people didn’t know

Of how I saw the sky

And what there was in me

That learned of how to fly

This Is Love

I asked to see.
I was first shown the absence.
This is how I saw.

Now I see it everywhere.  I am glad.
It is taking me time but it is getting better each day.
It calls you;
It calls me;
It calls everyone.

Few answer the call so many live in illusion.
Those who answer go through trials and tribulations but come to understanding much stronger.
In the others' avoidance, however, their pain lasts longer still.

Don't fear.  There is eternal awareness of it all and love burns always.
The Divine in me loves the Divine in you and this is why the earth turns 'round.
We are all circling the love of what brought us here.
And we, like it, help to create our lives alongside it.
And this is good.
And this is love.

Storm Jr

I once knew a sweet boy

Was a hippie in his ways

He went deep into the woods

In an LSD formed daze

He sat down upon a rock

Where he left the world behind

Stared for minutes at the sun

But its powers made him blind

You Found Me Dead

It’s midnight out my window

Though I have yet to dream

Tomorrow is today now

Without the morning beams

It’s in the night when I do

Take trips within the mind

My thoughts begin to be

The hollow, twisted kind

I question how it'd be

If I to you had said,

“The doctor claims I’m sick, dear,

Six months till I am dead.”

It blows my brains to think

That people know this fear

For me will this come true

Sometime within the year?

No really, take the time

To wonder what we’d do

Would lies all of a sudden

Begin to turn to truth?

We'd crawl beneath the sheets

And make the purest love

I might, too, turn to guidance

From unseen Lords above

To strangers on the street

I’d reach and shake their hand

Then pull them in much closer

To join me in my dance

Withdrawal from my old purse

The lame and petty cash

And pass it out to bums

So they could get their hash

I’d take a trip to London

To rest upon Jim’s grave

And weep at his own passing

To light from product slave

My mother would be near me

She’d hold me like before

And in her gentle rocking

Her love I would adore

I’d kiss all of the lips

My eyes would fall upon

I’d love all of my people

Before my time was gone

And I would take a boat

Onto a blue lagoon

Sing songs to ukuleles

While gazing at the moon

I’d dress well to the nines

Be draped from head to toe

The next day I’d walk freely

Around with zero clothes

Bring to me all the finest

Cheese, herbs, and Paris wines

Prepare for me a table

Let’s drink, and laugh, and dine!

I’d cry when all alone

Surrendering my will

Not knowing why it was

My body had gone ill

Then maybe I would see

Some things that I don’t now

Take one last gaze on fields

Inside of me to plow

Appears as though our lives

Grow like the grass in Spring

From knowing that one day

Death’s bell is sure to ring

So Anna, how can I

Live out my life as such

Release the narrow view

And ride the mortal rush?

I think it boils down

To really just one thing

You hear this from a song

The Beatle boys did sing

No matter what you know

From textbooks that you read

Life’s really very simple

‘Cause “love is all you need”.

Dear folks, to you I’d say

The thing’s I’ve never said

But only felt I could

Before you found me dead

THE FEATURE: Kimberly Faye Illustrations

I have been itching to feature an incredibly talented artist, from my “hometown” in Virginia, named Kimberly Faye.  Her illustrations and paintings have had their way with me each time She informs Her yearning viewers of a new piece.  I had the privilege to consider Her a dear kin when I was a new student to my public middle school.   She embraced my own quirkiness and allowed me to be myself.  I remember Her presence fondly.  I would catch Her collecting inspiration in the library as she checked out books featuring famous artists, such as Jimi Hendrix.  I rooted Her on, as a fellow peer, in a student design competition for a class t-shirt, which She inevitably won.  All in that to say, She had a very unique approach to Her work, which still shines brightly today.  Her creations have strongly touched many people, enough so for folks to get Her designs in the form of a tattoo.  Enjoy some selected pieces from Her collection.  If you like what you see as much as I do, go ahead and check out Her personal website featuring more works and merchandise.  Let Her now speak for Herself.

Website: www.kimberlyfayeillustrations.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KimberlyFayeIllustrations

Inhale

Special THANKS to you, Kimberly, for giving me permission to share.  

All are copyrighted works of Kimberly Faye, please respect the artist by remembering this

Sunday Morn'

How could I

For years and years

Not understand

My darkest fears

But just today

I think I might

Start getting me

And knowing why

Of what I love

And what I lack

That life is not

Just white and black

And all my smiles

They come from shame

When realized

I’m not to blame

The days that I

Do feel at peace

They stem from hours

My tears released

So what is god?

Dear gals and lads

Divine just good?

It’s also bad

Cause how can we

Know anything

Without the contrast

Sooth to sting

So let me tell you

What I be

There’s nice and fair

And pain in me

Just like a vine

I tangle, still

Producing wine

From labored fields

But then again,

I’ll never know

It’s Sunday morn’

I’ll let it go

The One

Let’s take a walk, just me and you

Within the park and forest, too

Would then you feel my presence strong?

And would my thoughts seem quite as wrong?

I’d wish for you to take my hand

Each other’s love on high demand

From there we’d let the moment be

What then would you possess from me?

We’d stop and gaze within the eyes

And let our lids release their cries...........

Damn, tell me how to get to you!

What is it that I’d have to do?

I give all that lies deep inside

Not much of me I try to hide

Sometimes I leave and yes, I’m gone

But only when I'm taken wrong

I yearn so much for your sweet touch

Against my soul, I ask not much

See, when we love, our love is good

So why am I misunderstood?

I’ll tell you how the story goes

Even if you’ll never know

'Cause this is what my life is for

To open up my dungeon doors

Wait, never mind, I take it back

An understood, my dear, you lack!-----

-----Oh god …………… I guess that I’M the fool

To stretch out long and reach for you

So dumb, so dumb, you lousy girl!

You know which life makes up Your world

It’s You that’s blind, oh can’t You see?

The one You want, oh self, is Me

Beauty Of Life

Wow.  My vocabulary, in my own native tongue, constantly escapes me.  Or, rather than escapes me, stays intensely confined in my limited mind.  I enjoy writing and do it in the same way that I feel the need to walk when having sat too long.  It’s a, oh god, dare I say, “release”.  Too many artists have used that word, and for good reason, but it doesn’t explain me well. 

I planned to be asleep several hours ago as to mentally and physically prepare for tomorrow’s continued exploration.  But as soon as the opportunity goes past the point of my intention, I change my intention to something else.  I cannot allow myself to sleep, though my eyes beg me.  I feel so beautifully overwhelmed in my constant state of awakening and wish to stay up to watch it.  Again, so desperately I desire to appropriately explain what I mean.  But I suppose I should change my intention and not say anything other than how it comes out. 

My time here in my new “home” has been just a little bit of everything.  Some of those things I never knew existed in me.   It’s like a storm.  Have you ever watched a frightening storm from the comfort of your home?  Because of its might you can't help but humbly examine how those unseen forces can effortlessly shape its planet.  And though scared at the sight of it, you yearn to be in the middle, believing it to be exhilarating against all of your sunny days.  I am in a great hurricane of newness that is powerfully forming the terrain within.  And it makes my life, while being aware that it could also take my life.

My invisible interior walls are shifting.  Nature is taking place in me and I can’t stop it, nor do I want to.  I’m slowly chipping away, gradually seeing what lies beyond the bricks that have haunted my spiritual streets.  And I can tell you that today another row fell and turned to a maroon dust that has simply blown away, forever disappearing into eternity.

What I believe to have come to is the ability to remain astounded by all that I experience, no matter the state of mind or emotion.  I have produced some brutal tears of question and doubt while injecting myself into this city.  But even in that time the light of the moon catches my eye to remind me of what it is that captivates me on an infinite level.  It takes me out of my moment of fear and puts me into the essence of life.  While allowing myself to squirm in torment, because it is necessary, the discomfort gives me an opportunity to call upon that which feeds my curiosity and wonder.  Such as the light of the moon that I can see from my window now. 

It’s not over.  As soon as I become comfortable, and the “winds” die down, another storm will brew when my planet needs renovating.  I have become so thankful in this time of my little life.  I don’t take anything lightly that has gotten me here.  Here!  This moment NOW.  That could be just about anything, like my darkness, my light, and all the events I’ve ever managed to come across.  My pain allows my eyes to see.  And what I gaze upon is the beauty of my life.  

My Grave

The greatest test of time

Is giving up the self

To pack up what you hold

Then rest upon a shelf

And what you think you know

Well really, you do not

In knowledge you will lose

The battles you have fought

It’s quiet in my room

Alone, though I can’t hide

There’s wonder in my blood

And lonely in my spine

I beg and curse the gods

Who am I now, I ask??

Identity is gone

I’ve torn away the mask

There’s something with me here

I’m haunted by a ghost

What has it come to see?

What does it want the most?

Not knowing what I am

Or where that I belong

Can make life seem so short

And other times so long

But in the eyes of Space

My time is just a dot

I know of what I’m worth

It seems that I forgot

And I, like Christ, was born

With naked flesh revealed

A fragile waving flower

In harsh winds through my field

There’s nothing left to do

I’ve done all that I can

You’ve had your way with me

Upon your great command

My eyes now hold a fog

And sleep escapes my mind

In letting go of truth

Pure honesty I’ll find

One day I’ll live in death

More closely than today

Like Satan, I will fall

For clinging to my ways

I, then, will turn to light

Or maybe back to dark

The deepest part of me

Is barren, lost, and stark

My job in this is through

So take me now, I say!!!

And use me as you willed

Or put me in my grave

Series: Life Won't Wait

The Ultimate Healer

A small, very tiny sort of conversation took place between a friend and me this evening.  On opposite sides of the country, we used our written word to express dear love and devotion to one another.  I sat on the back patio of this quaint urban cottage, taking in the final moments of day.  If I stood on my tiptoes, overlooking the grape-vined fence, I could see that strong and powerful city skyline in the near distance.  The noises that arose from this place were everything I ever dreamed, and anything one would think that Seattle sounds like.  The constant whirling of air from planes above and with it their lights.  Horns, faint music, sirens, the language of dogs, and a universal sound of silence mixed within.  A blue moon finally began its climb in the twilight as the sun’s final glow faded on the opposite horizon behind the twinkling skyscrapers.  I am in the city!  I am a city gal.

My housemates stay in Portland tonight.  I am not exactly alone here in this house; two cats rest comfortably on their kitty-kingdoms.  I have music and shamelessly dance around freely in this empty space, dreaming of all things.  I walk through this time of my life, early 20s, with blind faith and vulnerable hope.  Considering myself an open vessel for exploration of the pure unknown.  As it is, I don’t exactly know my spot here quite yet.  Sometimes, when I rise in the morn’, I can’t place my limited logic onto why it is that I am here.  Far beyond working for cash and way past any sense of settlement.  So what is it, then?  Define, define, define!  Well, it’s not just about what’s “fun, free, and trendy”, this is about fulfilling a call.  The call to be me.  And I feel, through what inspires me, that I am to pass on that light to something beyond my comprehension.  This has nothing to do with religion and everything to do with what is undoubtedly divine by my own definition.  Repurposing what is a prophet and renaming miracles to fit the modern bill.  I create my own way of moving through this life despite the opinions given by those in fear, those in humility, and those who do not self-examine enough to give it. 

It’s so bare.  My agenda does not exist.  And it seems very vast because of my approach.  But I choose everything for my life with a purpose.  Even in moments that happen without my wanting, I can always control my reaction and guide myself accordingly.  People ask me if I am afraid doing what I am.  No.  I don’t obey to fear – fear is in the mind and I have learned how to better navigate through it.  I am very vulnerable, yes!  I don’t know much at all.  And not knowing can be tiring.  But being afraid is the ultimate drain in the sink of life.  That is something I learned, it doesn’t come naturally to me.  My mother, yes, she was the one.  My mother, yes, she has always been the one.  She taught me this, along with many things, and has so much to do with why I am even here beyond my moment of birth. 

My mother, to me, is more real than Jesus.  Her lessons were always relevant and personal.  Her blonde baby turned out to be very wild, even as a young little lass.  I was quiet and thought a lot.  I stayed in my mind often and she quickly learned it was hard for me to ever do what everyone else was doing.  My stubborn nature to stay true to myself certainly was no walk in the park for two parents.  But they so graciously and patiently allowed me to freely express myself.  When I was a fresh teen I went through a depression like Joni Mitchell’s “Blue”.  In the night I took paint to my walls and with my fingers drew pictures of fairytales and beings of imaginary lands.  When most parents would buy a can of paint and call for a doctor, mine silently watched and allowed me to explain what I was experiencing with open minds.  I hung portraits of rockstars and posters of New York City in my bedroom.  I said, “Mom … I want to live in the city.  I want to be a rockstar.”  Well, to mama, I was already a rockstar.  And as she watched me squirm in the vortex of my ever-racing mind, she told me fear is not real, and that I must follow my dream. 

Hi, Mom. 

I am here.

Though I don’t know why.  But this indescribable thing that drives me so much … it’s always there.  And now that I am older and recognize this feeling I can see that what it is that pushes me now was that thing I always felt as a child.  I didn’t understand and certainly tried rejecting it when I suffered the isolation of peers.  But I followed it no matter how much it made me feel like a laughable sideshow. 
“Yes, but Anna, where does your value lie?” Mom would say.  “I don’t know, Mom.” And in not knowing, I turned away from the world, and turned to music.  Somehow, I believe it has to do with why I am in this city because everywhere this Great Force has pushed me, it led me to the art of music, always.  And in ways I didn’t know were possible.  It has been the ultimate healer to me.  It has saved my life.  And as I sit here, greatly reflecting on what I have just done with my life, for reasons unknown to me, I think it is becoming even clearer than before what I owe myself to.  All of the natural human questions and concerns hardly affect me at all. 

I just think…
Oh, I just know…
My life will take me there.

The Science Of A Dream

You have everything to do

With all the things surrounding you

And even if you don't have much,

Go ahead and live as such

I have little to my name

Ain't got fortune, zero fame

But I see me everywhere

So in ways, I'm really there

See, perfection's just a thought

Right and wrong, ya know, is taught

But there's no limit to your sky

All is yours, you have to try!

Now please listen as I say

In your dreams you'll find a way

But be wise in what you choose

Gaining lies can make you lose 

You can chase after the cash,

Diamond rings, a perfect ass

And you'll get all of those things!

But those moments are just flings

Make it simple in your ways

Take your time within your days

Journey toward the greater good

Though you'll be misunderstood

Hear advice if it sits well

But the rest can go to hell

If it's not in-line with you,

Do the things you know to do

It takes patience, it takes time

(Sometimes shitty means like dimes)

Close your eyes and picture now

All your dreams without the "how's"

If you do this when you can

You will soon then understand

That there's science to "the dream"

You will find out what I mean

Ain't no secret to my game

You and I are just the same

But there's one that gives a shit

And the other who will quit 

You may not get love from kin

And there's those that say you sin

But these things come when you choose

That there's nothing left lose

I will tell you what I hear

Just some words of those in fear

I'm not bitter, I don't hate 

Let me just ... extrapolate ...

"You're an 'artist?' Oh, dear Lord!

Go to school, you are be bored! 

Get a job and pay your bills

Think those dreams will buy you meals?!" 

"You're a terrible new aunt!  

That position you should flaunt! 

Family values must come first

You are dense and surely cursed."

"Do you think you're really great

Leaving all to chase your "fate"?

Do you want some fucking prize?  

What, you think we're mesmerized?"

"Oh yes, I was once your age

Full of rock n roll and rage

But one day you will grow up

So naive, you're just a pup."

"All those thoughts within your head

Are illusive, you'll be dead!

Or at least upon the streets

Where the pimps and hookers meet"

So yeah, those are just a few

Did I ... wait ... did I lose you?

Maybe roll yourself a joint

Then we'll get right to the point

Point is this - just let it go

Please, I beg you, LET IT FLOW! 

All the lies you must abort 

Thank the ones that do support

These are people who can see

All that you can really be

And they know what's in your heart

They've encouraged from the start

If there's no one in your life

By your side like Barney Fife 

Make it quiet ... not a sound

In the silence it is found

Where it lives is deep inside

Though it's shy and likes to hide

It will tell you what to do

This faint whisper, dear, is you

So release your gripping hands

Start to take your own commands

For your future lies, (I'm told),

Far beyond the Yellow Brick Road

Birth, Me

Awakening

I am changing my view

of what is the 

Final Frontier 

Patience, My Friend

never jump the gun

in races that you run

though patience isn't fun

the waiting must be done 

Trevor

His name was Trevor

And he loved little needles

His black dog ran for miles

And she loved little beetles

And together they swam

In Pacific Ocean lands

Oh and they knew nothing of discipline

His family phoned to him,
“Son, Buddha’s calling you home,

And we don’t wanna have to worry.”

But he said,
“Mom, I’ve grown up in a hurry.”

He had gone to the West

To confess all of his worried mind

You could hear him cry

Through broken smiles

And play and sing

For miles and miles

Tah, nah-nah, nah

Tah, nah-nah, nah

Tah, nah-nah, nah 

And, ohh, this young man

He loved the night

He loved Kurt Cobain

And he thought it would be nice

To take his advice

So one night

Trevor took his life

The Call Of Youth

It’s just so sad

So we pretend

That this right here

It not the end

That all the songs

Of which we hear

Are not predicting

What is near

And you and I

Will always be

That I to you

And you to me

But every dawn

To every dusk

My dreams do tell me

What I must

So this is why

I pack my things

And answer to

The bell that rings

‘Cause ever since

I was a lass

I knew this norm

Would never last

And I felt ghosts

And fogs and mists

Like silver backs

Within the midst

Just like a voice

It spoke to me

And told me what

I had to be

I saw the truth

Within my peers

I faced the lies

I faced my fears

And even though

I still get scared

I’ve given time

To be prepared

Yes, we will cry

I don’t make sense

But I must live

In present tense

And what my heart

Is telling me

Is, “Walk on through,

It’s time to leave.”

So this is me

I’ll never stay

It really seems

I’m born this way

But I will love you

All my days

Within my sparse

And flighty ways

Good bye

Good bye

I have to go

And be what I

Have always known