Poetry

I don’t write enough.

None of my words are
floating in the air and
orbiting around
my apartment building

or refracting the sunlight and
forming tiny shadows in the neighborhood park...


I have, however, been reading a lot of poetry.

Dense, layered, complex; poetry is the language of life.

The world has ears, and there are many stories to tell it.

I have a story to tell.

- Buy the books pictured here, here, here and here. 

- I am wearing a shirt given to me by my mother, pants from H&M, a thrifted scarf and socks from Urban Outfitters.

Worship

I wish that my words were a song. I wish that the characters I am typing could sing with each press.

There is something so alluring about worship. It seems utterly inhuman, yet it is the most instinctual part of me. Spiritual reverence, in its widest, most inclusive form, is the closest thing we have to touching the unknowing that surrounds us. In the unknowing lies our dreams, the feelings we can't articulate; the moments that can only be described as "mmm." It beautifully transcends human knowledge, and this transcendence creates a feeling in the pit of my stomach, which is like a glowing, pulsating burden.

One of my life goals is to be able to articulate the experience of worship, the feeling of open wonderment, from beginning to end. I want to put into words the gasps and shivers that I remember as a child, when the music would play and I would hear people begin to whisper their prayers; then the music would slowly rise with the cries of the craving, and we would all get caught up in feelings that flowed like waves of oil. I felt immersed in worship then. I felt like I was enclosed in a warm cocoon, with the heartbeat of God pressed against my body. These memories captivate me because everything around me now is so tactile. Everything is so firm and present, and I sometimes want to be swallowed up in a mouth of warm tears. I want to breathe Hallelujah, and drift in it. 

Pale light, pale light: illuminate my soul.


*In the photographs I am wearing a thrifted shirt, a handmade necklace (with beads from a thrifted seat cushion), pants from Levi's (also seen here), my brother's socks and vintage shoes from Meeps.

Decoupaged People

I covered two cardboard mannequin forms I had with paper. The small one is covered in music from Handel's Messiah, purchased for $1 at a library sale in D.C. a couple of years ago. The big one is covered in street atlases of Metro Boston, purchased from a thrift store around the same time.

I used Mod Podge Matte glue to cover these two forms. It can be used as both an adhesive and as a finish. It works well, although it dries very quickly.

Here's how they looked before:

Big difference, right?!

Purple.

- Purple is such an other-worldly color, especially when deep. It's so cosmic.

- I have been in a good creative space lately, and feel a sense of urgency in the air. It's electric and refreshing.

- I just finished reading Letters To A Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke. His letters are magical, overflowing with tenderness and care. They are a beautiful confirmation of my life.

In the photographs, I am wearing:

•  A purple thrifted shirt. It looks granular, with vertical stripes of faded and deep purple. I love its visual texture.  
• A handmade brooch, made of hemp twine.
• Evergreen Tri-Blend Tank (I think) by American Apparel
• Union Blue Drop Taper pants by Levi's
• Evanston Kiltie Tassel Loafers by Bostonian

Mountains/Mountainous

Mountains can be made from colored construction paper. Simply tear, glue and stack. Let chance form the peaks and valleys. Let the torn fibers create movement.

I scanned these into my computer, so they look more faded than how they actually are in-person. I like the idea of a faded mountain, though. I like those two words together, and the image it creates in my head.

 I decided to frame these mountains. They make a lovely group. Simple things can be so wonderful.

I want to surround myself with more wonderful.

Process, In a Bag.

I crocheted this bag. It was a four month project, which is a very, very long time to make something, but I love it.

I love the idea of slow process; of the gradual building of things. Slow multiplicity is very human, and I am really captivated by it. It's sad how it appears to be the enemy nowadays, in this age of high-speed encapsulation. There's something very fleeting about that, something breathless and unstable. The concept of slow growth, with its calm dependance, moves me.

The crochet part of this bag was fairly easy. I just used the same stitch over and over. All of the other parts, like the lining and strap, were much more challenging. I am a much better crocheter than I am a sewer, so hand-sewing a lining into this bag was a big test of patience. I think that the beauty of sewing is not the act of it, but the preparation behind it. It requires a hearty dose of mathematics. It's much more right-brain than one may think. I might be too emotional for it, but I've promised myself that I will improve. 

I couldn't envision this bag with a strap. The idea of one just didn't sit well with me. I wanted it to be more like a haphazard paper bag, with a makeshift "something" holding it together. After much deliberation (I deliberate very intensely about a lot of things), I decided to a braid some synthetic twine I had and sew it inside the bag. This rope wraps around the bag, and keeps it closed. Of course, such a closure makes this bag a bit impractical, but I have enough practicality in my life. I sometimes need impracticality. It keeps things in balance. 

I hope to make more of these bags; ones that are bigger and ones with traditional straps. For now, this one will do. I'm proud of it. 

 In the photos, I am also wearing:

• A thrifted Calvin Klein sport shirt. It's probably from the early-mid 1990s.
• A pair of thrifted plaid, linen pants from Bugle Boys. They're my favorite but, then again, I have a lot of favorites.
• Leaf necklaces from two costume jewelry shops in New York. One of the shops is now closed, and the other one is near Union Square. I forgot the name, but they were really cheap (like under 3 dollars). 
• Flip-flops from H&M. 

Run.

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