Painting and Poetrying on Myself

The truth: I was too much in my own world this week to bother finding a model for Skin on Sundays. Meaning this morning I had to work with what I had. I had my own body, some paint, some poems, and @kidpistola willing to help me with the photo.

Process:

Process:

I am sitting in front of a mirror because, well, I needed to see what I was doing from an outside perspective. No make-up, no frills. Just the work. It is SO MUCH HARDER to do this on myself than someone else--but I do have to say, I'm getting better at it.

AND

Here is the result (do you see the plane?):

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Metaphysical Metamorphosis

Where we felt home
is a plane
of such thin glass,
not
always there
when we return.

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Long before I could understand what Thomas Wolfe meant when he said “you can’t go home again,” I heard the quote in one of my favorite childhood films, Now and Then. It took me pretty far into adulthood before I could fully grasp it, and ever since that moment, I think I have been both consciously and unconsciously trying to define what exactly home means. If it isn’t a place, is it a feeling? Or is it a place once feelings are attached there? The thing that is so slippery about it is that a physical place that feels like home one moment can stop feeling that way the next, based on events that occur. For instance, imagine that you have been living in the same apartment for 3 years with your significant other, and then suddenly you break up, and they move out. I think the place you have been living does not feel the same as it did before, likely not even home anymore. That leads me to believe that home is in fact a feeling, and the hard truth of the matter is that those of us that are constantly evolving mentally might find that feeling home takes a lot more work, because we have to keep up with ourselves and all of our changes.

Fast forward 30ish minutes:

A friend asked me if I would write lyrics for his new song, for which the music video is already in the works, by the end of the day. I just finished that. These aren't the lyrics, but this was my freewrite to get to the eventual lyrics, which I will share when the video comes out :) He told me the song was about having a crush and wondering if they want you back. The space in my mind is vast, so some of the connections started out SUPER loose.

Don’t leak it even to the ghosts, with your eyes all milk, like the ocean drunk straight from me, I am part dirt with so much forest on my shore, do you ever want your own trees, which one was you, the breeze or the lake? Bring out the teeth at sunset, half the door is open, half the highways have exploded. We were famous to each other only, that’s what it means to keep the water boiling forever, this is what it means to keep the curtains closed. The resting on your chin wondering if you are the narcissistic one, in the dark we’ll probably fall less to the lonelier suffering. Something else can call you just like the water did to those who drowned. That’s you howling like a wolf on the other end of the phone, that’s your disguise tonight and I’m going alone. I wish. Is it better to always take the stairs because of all the earthquakes. I am the cake that ate itself. I am the citrus that squeezed himself. I am the wolf that scared himself. I am the wish that blew out its own flame. And all the time the sea was just waving to say hi.

The Sunday office, where the lyrics were born:

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Productive Sunday and I'm ready for a beer and a movie with @kidpistola and Luna. Now I just have to find the movie.