let your light out slow.

let your light out slow // 16" x 16" // pencil + ink + acrylic on wood

if energy cannot be destroyed, where does it go? the things we carry around with us, inside of us, in our chests and minds and bones, things that take so much energy, how do we get rid of it? forever?

sometimes i have these dreams that we can pour it all out and let it all be gone. it is explained, in the dream, that there is room for all of it in infinite space. fill all that darkness with darkness, it can take it.

incandescence is light produced from heat. that is what i say just before i wake up, every time.
and it's true.


when i look in my window, so many different people to be, it's strange, sure it's strange.

just right up there, on top of the city, sits old edinburgh castle. i walked up there and it was so close it felt strange. looking down from it felt like another time and place, and i guess it was.



"There are so many more Troy Davis’. This fight to end the death penalty is not won or lost through me but through our strength to move forward and save every innocent person in captivity around the globe. We need to dismantle this Unjust system city by city, state by state and country by country."

please take a moment out of your day to sign this: Not In My Name

i heard the moon has visions of her nightly.


forever with fever for days gone by.

by no stretch of the imagination am i old. my youth is both a memory and a dream, saturating everything that my adult eyes see, steering me like a rudder. i think of this more often then ever. the foundation of interests, the discoveries of a child ever present on my current course. i wonder if the dreams my son has now will come to him like deja vu when he is older and beyond the home i've made for us. i know not everyone is so nostalgic, i try most times to think of it like a gift, the ability to hold the past and present almost at equal weight on a scale. sometimes it tips too heavy and i feel foolish for allowing myself to be so consumed with a time i'll never see again, forever with fever for days gone by.

is youth a dream? did i wake from it when my son was born? i often feel that having a child at a young age trapped me in a state of fake adulthood. i wasn't ready to grow up, but the real life weight of single parenthood was hardly willing to listen. i feel stunted in some ways, and old in others. selfish for wanting time in my own head, selfish for wanting time at all. it didn't have to be so black and white, but i made it that way. i think it was easier at the time to quit wanting things for myself.

i buried my dreams too soon. this is just one of the places i dug them up.


i heard a curse being born forming each finger and forming each thorn.

well hey thanks to blood is the new black for this cool little post. i rather liked the way they grouped these together.


i believe my trouble and your trouble shook hands.

i'm back.

i realized i've hardly posted any photos from all the travels i did this summer. i'm gonna step to it. this is from a graveyard in edinburgh in july. the moon was full and it was close to midnight. magic. i kept thinking about the people we bury inside of us, in our hearts or the back of our minds. people we don't know anymore. little graveyards in our hearts. this was a church yard. the next day i went back in the daytime and realized that beyond the cemetery wall was a park with a carousel. interesting to walk back and forth between the two. i'll never forget this night.