this is how time passes
retracing your footprints in the mud
your tracks don’t quite fit in the old
your feet are bigger now
going in a different direction.
at first, you walk over your old prints
stomping all over them
imprinting new tracks over old
they’re almost gone when you realize
you can simply walk beside
like a beautiful pattern,
the sides slightly altering,
shifting at the pressure of the new prints.
this is an image,
a ceramics piece,
not a poem.
the beauty and acceptance of your
past + present juxtaposed
each one complimenting the other.
12 January 2016, journal entry (edited)
my unconscious self is
afraid of everything
falling apart. somehow i started to
believe that fear was the string
needed to hold everything together.
that tension would
keep everything in place. if
i just worried about it enough,
everything would be just
fine & dandy.
i didn’t know that fear needed me to survive,
not the other way around.
i didn’t know that i need change
like i need air.
“Pulling back every once in a while to see how far you’ve gotten is also important, ‘because you can see your accomplishments within the big picture, instead of measuring yourself against the larger, scarier reality.'”
– The Power of Small, Why Little Things Make All the Difference
he rode the fork lift like a motorized scooter
his flab jiggled to the rythm of the cobblestone sidewalk
that butterfly was just
by a car!”
– boy in childhood, sunny fall day
you can do that if you want to be a man,
but if you want to be a pussy…”
– Man in a Suit, NYC, Quotes on How to Maintain a Social Construct, Vol. II