a diary of words, paper and other ephemeral things
I know you’re upset
But here
I carved a space
In my heart
Meet me there
We’ll have tea
Not too strong
So we can still
go to bed early
We’ll talk about the
meaning of
Our matching fingerprints
You scribble tears on your face
With blue crayon
They fall, rain from your cheeks
Splash into your cup
Allow me to drink it for you
It’s been long enough
You don’t have to do this alone
Episode five of the podcast Living Practice is live 💕 catch it here or find it on your favorite podcast platform.
Bald eagle
circles with
two vultures
tending to death
like the
carcass of a deer
or the
decay of a nation
tended the garden of this mind
brains weren’t extraordinary
I cling to the title:
gifted
press the label onto my shirt
hand lingers above my breast
delusion
the tag tied round my toe in the morgue
it’s all I ever was…until, you know
I wasn‘t
plummeting grades, marks don’t matter
blackout nights, herded by strangers
bra stuffed with money
and tear-stained fights
this body became
the sacrifice;
payment on the altar of
expectation
color me surprised
you roll your eyes
not impressed
tell me this
is it enough yet?
The Tarot Diaries segment on the four of cups is now live. Swipe through the photos for previews of what I dive into 💚
Below is my sticker design for Care Mail Club. Sign ups are $11 to receive a sticker, zine and original artwork…and sometimes extra goodies 😜 check it out on my ko-fi.
The sticker shone below was from last month’s club mail. it’s available for $3 on ko-fi.
Reading “Ordinary Mysticism” by Mirabai Starr
I find the presence of the sacred hidden in my aching bones when I have to push myself a little farther past my comfort zone. I am reminded I am alive.
I find the presence of the sacred as I walk, an obligation, yes…but also a gift. I move on familiar paths and marvel that I came together as this particular collection of cells, at least for now.
I also feel the sacred flowing through tingling fingers as I create. It is an openness that simply keeps me moving.
I feel the sacred in the hard moments, but also in the soft. Like asking the kids about how their day was, laying down for a daily nap because I respect this body enough to know rest is vital.
Although I can feel imperfect on my path, ultimately I believe the sacred meets me in the trying. I am forever in a state of reaching toward the unknowable mystery: my fingers imagine grasping the hem of its cloak…but remember that not knowing is beauty too. I breathe, my chest rises. the day is promising but also cold. I have shelter and warmth and unending love, even if only for this brief moment.
For more writing on where I meet the sacred, check out my recent essay in Fieldwren Journal: available here
I just started it, but go grab a copy of “Ordinary Mysticism: Your Life as Sacred Ground” by Mirabai Starr. Let me know what you think.
An automatic drawing I made last night while watching Uzumaki. Mostly just tried to set time apart where I wasn’t doomscrolling. Being locked in during a snow storm has made it hard to resist the phone, especially since I can’t go for my daily walk. My legs hurt intensely. Luckily my ulcer issues have chilled out, and the medicine I am allowed to take has kept the horrid headaches at bay. I still slept a lot today. I also began knitting a hat. Still trying to work through my stash.
Back to the drawing, into interesting because a lot of elements always seem to appear and I usually see some type of character or spirit manifest. Will probably do more of this tonight when I’m not knitting.
I found a fun little notebook at a record store and now I’m filling it with collage
Starmoth Press 