Saturday, October 27, 2007

Little Girl, Little Girl, How Do You Learn to Eat?


I am fourteen years old and I learn the art of fat-free eating. In my sack lunch, I pack:
  • 1 red delicious apple
  • 1 can diet coke
  • fat-free bagel w/fat free cream cheese
  • fat free pretzels
I learn that butter is the enemy, so my bread is always dry. My mother uses fat-free salad dressing, so I use it, too. Sometimes she even brings it to the restaurant in her purse. There is something intoxicating about deprivation. What control and strength it takes to withhold, to endure that hollow feeling. I feel powerful turning away fat. I decide that hunger pangs are a sign that I am truly alive. What depression takes away, hunger replaces.

- from my work-in-progress, "Stomach"

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

P L A Y


Apparently, my guitar-playing, riot-grrl singing, soul-searching rock star fantasy lives on. The film Once helped to re-ignite this secret dream.

Art Challenge: Visually represent a dream you have about becoming something or someone you have yet to become (or know you'll likely never become). Or maybe this dream is already seeing the light of day and you're making it happen. In any case, put colors and images to this dream and, at the very least, let it live as art.


Monday, October 22, 2007

Hiding from Death



I told my parents I was afraid of dying, afraid they’d die,
made mom say I won’t and you won’t and everything will be fine
every night before bed as she kissed me goodnight
and closed the door partway so the light shined in.

- excerpted from my poem, "Nighttime Pantoum"

Friday, October 19, 2007

Sunday, October 14, 2007

There's a Birdie on My Shoulder


What's on
your shoulder?

Take a portrait of yourself with whatever it is that is currently on your shoulder (metaphors are welcome). Include a link to your photo in the comments box if you like!

Friday, October 05, 2007

The Fruitful Darkness

On Tuesday I went to a "Muse Studio" hosted by Alia Calender, a Soul Collage facilitator and life coach. This three-hour workshop was titled, "The Fruitful Darkness," a fitting theme for me during this difficult summer-to-fall transition time.

During the workshop we were asked to contemplate what the darkness means to us. Are there fears we have of the dark in general or of the fall or winter in particular? How might the darkness be "fruitful"? What gifts does darkness bring?

Alia also asked a profound question: "On a societal level, do you agree that we live in a very 'solar,' extroverted culture that has a hard time with the dark, the mystery, unknowing, non-doing, nighttime/winter, etc.?" I find that this is often true. What do you think?

After some contemplation, discussion, and lighting of candles, we explored our relationship to darkness through collage. For this particular workshop, we created in silence, allowing the energy of the others around us to keep us going. We clipped, cut, tore, arranged, and glued until it was time to share our creations with one another.


Here are my three creations (and their voices/messages):



I hold the key to my well-being. I am safe. Aloneness is not loneliness.




I see things as they are. Each moment is new and I am new.




I am night -- a mystery only the stars can solve.


Wednesday, October 03, 2007