i am my beloved's and my beloved is mine.

so, dance with me!

victory dances of love and peace.

for he makes all things new.

irony. [fell on black days.]

i've got this blog title about telling the truth about your life, and i haven't done that so well.
in the words of soundgarden, "i fell on black days". but there are 2 things happening here.
one - i'm finding myself unable to express why the deep sadness.
two - i'm embarrassed that i'm in this place again.

i've got this question... 'why do they leave?'
i can't be enough... say enough... do enough... to keep it from happening. family. friends. lovers.
like leaves changing and leaving me in their waste.
i have tried to turn myself into a chameleon over the years, i've tried to spill my art out in a thousand ways to make them stay... i've blamed it on my body. i've blamed it on my heart. i've put myself under cat scans and microscope lenses of self-help to try and be better. be smarter.
and in this, i completely lost myself and built a fortress around my heart.

the walls have come down.
i've found myself again.
and i'm still asking that same question.
and i still can't find the answers.
and it causes an ache in my soul, a panic in my head and heart.
i'm swallowed up in this great big sadness and it hunts me down wherever i run.

the fact is, whatever the reason, it isn't my fault.
and there are people who aren't leaving.
and it's time for some gratitude.
i'm broken down from disappointments in this valley...
but i'll be led to still waters... to a quiet place.
i'll drink deeply of peace.
i can't fight to keep people around who don't want to be here.
but i can revel in the delight of the people who see me and enjoy me.
i can't make my career move any faster.
i can only do the very best i can with what i have.
and keep my hands busy with what i know to do...
i can't make you love me...
but i can love extravagantly and accept that i am loved in return.
i can't control the outcome.
but i can give it all i've got.

and soon this truth will sink down from my head to my heart.
soon my emotions will agree with what i know.
but until then...
i'm weary. i need a strong wall of arms, lest i build another fortress and lose myself.
i need a soft place to lay my head...
and a song of truth to drown out the lies.
a shoulder to release these tears and flailing words.
a river to throw my worries into.
i need some peace.
and a beat to dance to.

good thing i'm off to nashville this weekend.
best friends + dance floors = hallelujah.

Les temps sont durs pour les rêveurs

it's like this...

i want off.

quaker.

I can fathom what is not
Can’t make it start or make it stop
Is your weapon dull or sharp
Sing like angels and sound alarms

Try to remember the words you say
Try to remember that I am safe
But I forget at the start of the day
Tell me again it’s gonna change

Fight to keep what will not stay
All these ghosts getting in the way
Mind scours every route
To discover what won’t be found out

You say,
Wait
Wait
Wait
Don’t links arms with luck and fate
I don’t believe in what they say
I don’t believe in what they say
Wait
Wait
Wait
Pry the arms of fear away
But all these shadows give me the shakes
All these shadows give me the shakes

x - marks the spot.

dare i say it...

today is a good day.

song for chosen hearts [one of those songs i made up in traffic]

All the boys
They run for me
Run for me and take the lead
Romancing
With godspeed
And heartfelt as it would seem
Fools rush into my city walls
Rush so hard
They make it fall
But then comes
The strangest thing
I wake up
And they've gone from me

If we can never be
Then love is an accident
to recover from
and it is what it was
But it won't come
If we can never be
Then take my heart
and throw it out among the stars
And my love can beat
A song for chosen hearts

All the girls
They run for me
Rebuilding all
That was done to me
They all sing
Me back to sleep
To soothe the beast
And quiet me
Then this one came
To the city wall
And tread so soft
Not to make it fall
But now the night
Has captured him
And no one knows
Where he went

If we can never be
Then love is an accident
to recover from
and it is what it was
But it won't come
If we can never be
Then take my heart
and throw it out among the stars
And my love can beat
A song for chosen hearts

heartbreakers and warewolves need not apply.

makin a list. checkin it twice.

i'm getting inspiration for a photoshoot in a couple of weeks.
meanwhile, it seems my stomach has declared a hunger strike because of the stress/turmoil/heartsickness/anxieties or in a word, mania i've been processing. oi.
however, this could work out in my favour come photoshoot time. bang. bang. rock and roll.

question of the day... why do i have art brut tunes stuck in my head today?

really though... point is, i need to get a plan sorted. a real concrete plan. for what, you ask?
well, life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans. and i dont want to turn around and be like... oh crap. now i have to start over and find myself a home. none of this will happen over night, i'm sure. and so i'm making a tangible plan and praying it gets interrupted by goodness across the pond. mostly i hope it involves being kidnapped on a record label's cash. just sayin.

- get out of debt.
- revamp all of the visuals for music.
- get new tunes recorded.
- reconnect with people.
- learn to seek. knock. ask.
- sort out a plan to get to the next town.
- work out a job in that town. er. city.
- find myself a house to make a home.
- and work out the car situation without breaking bank.
- paint more.
- step up this workout/running regimen.

meanwhile, i need a physical girl moment... involving hair, makeup, skin, clothes and alllll-a-that. perhaps a massage while i'm at it?

why not? ima spa queen, after all.

posted warnings [greetings from mania]

Stay
Stay away
From the places with drying paint
Stay
Stay away
All the pieces are fragile and afraid
Watch
Watch yourself
Blindfolded along the shelf
Watch
Watch yourself
Sounds like nothing to anyone else

There’s a tidal wave coming straight for me
Don’t get in the way
Don’t get in the way
Soldiers on parade coming straight for me
Don’t get in the way
Don’t get in the way
There are tigers and bears making friends with me
Don’t you try to stay
Don’t you try to stay
Inanimate objects I’ve given names
Don’t take them away
Don’t take them away

Look
Look don’t touch
You’ll go blind if you look too much
Look
Look don’t touch
The electrical currents will rush
Stay
Stay away
From uncomfortable masquerades
Stay
Stay away
They don’t mean what it looks like they say

they dont make em like they used to...

but he smells like ranch dressing!!!

The Black Keys "Tighten Up"

The Black Keys MySpace Music Videos

reset.

my heart hurts, y'all.
and i just want out.
but one day. one step.
one.at.a.time.

let's talk about...

bad hair friday & listening to slade.

gone.

Remember that day when I sat wringing my hair like some garment soaked from a hand washing rinse? But it was dry and there was a rush of blood to my cheeks, as though I’d been in the sun too long. Same summer baby with a glow like the day I was born. Held in the arms of a man who’d walk away. Pictures remind us what my body can no longer feel. But it isn’t a story about that… this one comes a bit later. I spoke in the tongues of men and of angels and I had love. I forgot you’d changed to the new economy… where words hold their value like 3rd world currency. Like domestic cars. Nevertheless, I had the fever. A girl from the old world… from the old country… ripe with the scent of lilies from the valley… hands soft with the dew of tears. Bathed in milk and honey on my tongue… but eyes adjusting from the dark. Remember the days before they made love some over the counter thing? Before it was dumbed down to a generic? I forget I speak a different language and much of the time I’m lost in translation. And the real meaning isn’t heard, isn’t felt, isn’t seen, tasted or touched in the beds where their bodies don’t rest. Some peace whispers in my blood like the sound of water in a stream. Heart beats make it audible to their deafened ears. He put his ear to my heart and listened… and I watched his body still and quiet down like a baby falling asleep. Lungs expand. Breathing deepened.
And what on earth will you do with it when all you wanted falls into your shaky dirty hands? I’ve gone, dear one. I’ve simply up and gone.

A couple of nights ago, I walked into that room bathed in white. The one in the strange house by the significant trees. You kept apologizing. Kept saturating my face with kisses and ‘sorry’s. Kept begging my eyes to receive you, but they were focused on the door. I couldn’t hear you. I didn’t even recognize your face. It’s so like me to just give in… I accepted your apologies and your lines of regret drawn in the sand were washed away by my seas of acceptance. And you begged me to hurry back. I can’t go back to that place of jeopardy. Remember the old days when love was actually free? Before we started paying for it with our lives and our money and our bodies? Before it was something packaged and sold and marketed by fear? Before it was something you could teach and learn how to keep. Before we erased the definition and filled in whatever we pleased? When it had the weight of old covenants and was respected like kings. When it was a land of adventure shrouded in mystery to be enjoyed. When it was as strong as death and written upon hearts as seals and indelible marks on arms. Held fast in the undulating tides of life and movements of emotion. Some of us still have it like diamonds in our eyes. Like stars singing out of a black velvet sky. Some of us refuse to bleed it from our veins… That room was ours, in that strange house is in the city without walls. We were leaving trails of stories as legacies. And we’ve wept with the broken and let our wounds help heal. And I’m sorry for your heart that doesn’t understand. That shuts me out with jagged stone walls. I’ll return to your heart and make it my home, when you find me.
Until then, I’ve gone, dear one. I’ve simply up and gone.

on the run.

i've been on the run
my shadow weighs a ton.
starting to make sense to me
i can't really make you love me .

no, preacher boy...

Control is an illusion.
Guarantees are a deception.
All you have is the gift.
And you give it with joy.
You give it with liberation.
Throw yourself into it and celebrate the fact that the sacrifice makes it sacred.

-rob bell.

premonition. [sea of cowards or my siren, chino moreno]

i knew it was coming.
i could hear the thunder growling in the distance.
i could feel the earth begin to quake.
i held fast as long as i could...
but i've given way to the tremors.
and i'm shaking hard.
it's all gone especially dark.
please, could someone turn on the lights?
i'm out of my head tonight.
i don't want to be forgotten.
i dont want to fade out.

what's your favourite color?

i may be obsessed with this video. mostly because it contains all of my favourite colors... including all the ones i have a hard time explaining...
like sparkler silver and over-saturated white light and black and gray and glittering dreamy golden and... even a little blue. all that's missing is the occasional pale pink. and i bet if i look again, it's actually right there.
it's my eye candy.

i love you.

those words are like a healing agent to my heart.
i'm thankful for the people in my life who say them and mean it.

yes.

it's almost embarrassing how much i adore them.
and i kind of don't even care.
get on it.

it's always different when it's a place you called home.

heartbroken.

hope rising.

unfading halos of joy encircling their heads
welcomed home with gifts of joy and gladness
as all sorrows and sighs scurry into the night.

Clémence Poésy.

i would not object to waking up as beautiful as she.